Confidante
by sweetiepie08
Summary: Paris had always been a dangerous city, but Frollo's corruption only escalated after the Feast of Fools. As leader of the gypsies, Clopin tries to keep his people safe, but he cannot do it alone. He must seek help from his closest confidante and lifelong friend if he means to keep at least some of his people alive.
1. Present 1: Old Friend

**Present 1**

The streets of Paris bustled on this bright January morning. The citizens of Paris hurried this way and that way trying to complete their morning chores. Hidden among them was a little gypsy boy who had given himself a mission. The boy peaked out of an alley way, an egg clutched in his hand, looking for his target. Finally the boy spotted him, a solider in Frollo's army of thugs. The boy's older brother was out juggling for coins the other day when the soldiers chased him away. The brother lost his money and was just barely able to outrun the soldiers. This soldier in particular managed to slice his arm as he was getting away. Now the little boy was out to avenge his older brother in the only way he was capable.

The boy waited for the soldier to pass his hiding place before prepping himself for the assault. He waited until the soldier was a reasonable distance away and his back was turned. Once the boy was sure the soldier was not paying him any attention, he lined up his aim and threw the egg. It sailed through the air heading straight for the soldier's head and…

 _Damn!_ The soldier turned his head at the last moment and the egg cracked off of the brim of him helmet and splattered pathetically on the ground. The boy stood there gaping at his failure.

"You there! Stop!"

It seemed the boy gaped a second too long. He turned on his heels and fled as the soldier and his companion rushed toward him. He darted down alley ways. His direction seemed aimless, but he knew exactly where he was going. The Janvier Inn came into view. He felt a twinge of relief in his heart, but the clamor of soldiers' boots reminded him that he was not finished running yet.

The bell above the inn's door clanged wildly as the boy burst through. The startled innkeeper looked up from her ledge as he dove to floor and slid behind her desk. "Bonjour mademoiselle," he whispered to the innkeeper as he tucked himself into the cubby hole in her desk.

The woman barely had time to react when two soldiers burst into her inn as well. "The gypsy boy," the soldier demanded, panting for breath "Where did he go?"

"He ran through the lobby and out the back door," the innkeeper answered in a rushed gasp. She decided to make her surprise work for her. The soldiers nodded and ran out the back door as she went back to her work.

Once he was sure the soldiers had gone, the boy crawled out from his hiding place. "Merci," he said, tipping an imaginary hat to her. The boy fancied himself a charmer. "I must be going now."

"Octavian…"

The boy stopped dead in his tracks at the innkeeper's warning tone.

She didn't bother to look up from her book. "That was the third time this month you've hidden under my desk, and it's only the 5th."

"I'm never running from the same guards," Octavian argued.

"That doesn't matter." She turned to him and gave him a stern glare. "The guards talk. Do you want them to find out about this place?"

"No…" he looked down at his feet sheepishly. "So, what? You want me to find new places to hide?"

"I want you to at least try to stay out of trouble," she replied. "You think I didn't see the yoke on the soldier's helmet? Trust me, you will find yourself in plenty of trouble without having to seek it out."

"Fine," Octavian sighed. "Can I go now?"

"That's another thing, you need to lay low for a while. You can't go back out there with the guards looking for you now."

"But…"

She put out her hand, silencing him. "I don't want to hear it. You need to wait for the guards to give up the search and forget your face. Here, you can hide in my office for about an hour."

She opened the door behind her and went in. Octavian followed, but he did not hide his displeasure as he let out an agonized groan. His aggravation was short lived, however, for when they entered the room, they found Clopin Trouillefou. He was leaning against a wall near a window, curiously inspecting his gloved finger tips.

"Clopin!" Octavian exclaimed as he dove to hug the man.

"Someone's gotten into some mischief I see," Clopin said as he affectionately patted the boy's head.

"Too much mischief," the innkeeper stated as she closed the door behind her. "He's going to attract the guards to this place if he keeps hiding here."

"Hmm, that is true." Clopin knelt down to the boy's level. "There are hiding places all over Paris. Make sure you know where they all are. Outrunning the guards becomes easier when you know every corner of the city. Now, off with you." He gave Octave a light shove toward the window. "Noelle and I have things to discuss."

"Oh no, the soldiers are probably still looking for him. He needs to stay here until they give up."

"Once again you are right, _ma belle chère_."

Clopin flashed her a smile as she regarded his flattery with suspicion. He wanted something. She let her withering stare linger on him for a moment before turning her attention back to Octavian. She reached into a pocket in her apron and gave it to the boy. "You, slip up to my room and wait there."

"But-"

"Now," she cut him off. "I will come get you when it's safe."

The boy sighed as he took the key and sulked away. Noelle watched from the door to make sure he went up the stairs and not out the back door. Once he disappeared to the next floor, she turned her gaze back to Clopin.

"Come now, don't give me that look," Clopin said, noting her stern expression. He put a hand on her chin and used his thumb and index finger to force her cheeks into a smile. Her lips fell back to a hard line as soon as he pulled his hand away.

"You're a terrible influence, you know," Noelle said, pulling away from him. "That boy is a lot like you were at that age; always getting into trouble."

He stroked his beard in faux contemplation. "I seem to recall a little red-headed girl acting with me for many of my childhood antics."

"Yes, I remember being dragged into your schemes." She rested her back against the door, arms crossed in front of her. Clopin braced an arm on the door above her head and leaned over her.

"And the schemes which were your idea? Did I drag you into those as well?" he asked as he ran her long braid between his fingers.

Noelle batted his hand away and took her braid back. "Let's just get to the point," she said breaking away from him. "Why are you here?"

"Just making sure that everything is prepared for tonight."

"Of course. You ask every time and every time my answer is the same. I have been doing this for six years and I have watched my father do it for much longer. Have I ever once been unprepared?"

"No, and I expect nothing less from you. Still, you can't fault me for being vigilant about the safety of my people."

"Then I suppose we have nothing more to discuss."

"I suppose."

Clopin sighed and returned to inspecting his gloved fingertips. Occasionally, he'd glance over to her then go back to his non-visible nails. Noelle rolled her eyes. The so called 'King of Gypsies' was craving attention again. She knew he was lingering for a reason. He had more to say but he wanted her to ask. Though she knew she'd have to play his game eventually, (few creatures on earth were as stubborn as her Clopin) she let the silence go on just a bit longer.

After a pause at least long enough to make him fidget, she finally gave in. "There's something else."

"There is," he answered, snapping out of his nonchalant pose. "The festival is tomorrow."

"I know"

"You did not go last year."

"True."

Clopin was nearly jumping out of his skin in anticipation and it brought a smirk to her lips. He wasn't the only one who could play games. "I should like to know why," he grumbled in irritation.

"I can't remember," she answered with a bit of sarcasm in her voice. "Maybe it's because I was here fighting off drunkards with a fire poker and keeping them from destroying my common room."

"Ah yes, inebriates from here to Spain quake in fear at mere tales of the innkeeper and her dreaded fire poker" he teased.

"Are you mocking me?"

Clopin gasped and slapped a hand to his chest in an exaggerated gesture. "You think I dare to invoke your wrath?"

Noelle rolled her eyes. "Why is it you bring all of this up now?"

"Is it not obvious?" He slid behind her desk and into the chair. He leaned back, gracefully balancing the chair on its back legs, as his own legs rested on the desk in front of him. "I want you to go this year."

"Go? To the festival? Who's going to watch the inn while I'm gone?"

He leaned back, gracefully balancing the chair on its back legs, as his own legs rested on the desk in front of him. "You employ a cook, serving girls…"

"None of whom could keep this place together on such a hectic day" Noelle argued.

Her arguments fell on disinterested ears. "Close up then."

"Close? The inn?"

"Just for a day. Isn't it better the drunks revel in the streets rather than your common room?"

"I have guests you realize. Besides, do you have any idea how much ale I sell on the 6th? Why are you pushing this, anyway?" She knew he had his reasons. Clopin always had his reasons. If he wouldn't divulge them voluntarily, she was going to make him say them.

"Is it not enough for me to want my friend to have some fun every once in a while?" Clopin took his feet off of the desk and the chair came down with a thump. "You trap yourself in this dusty old inn day after day. It makes me sick. Perhaps if you took some time to lighten up a bit, you would be more pleasant."

"I can be pleasant!" Noelle slammed her hands on the desk across from him. "Just the other day, I saw Fleur-de-Lys de Gondelaurier in the market, and I smiled at that frigid bitch before I could stop myself."

"I'll agree that exchanging pleasantries with that woman is no easy task." CLopin said slowly getting up from his seat. "Very well, my most pleasant friend, you have me. But I still expect to see you at the festival tomorrow." He leaned in to her and slid a finger down her cheek. "I know how difficult it is for you to refuse me."

She let out a sigh. "Fine, I will go on the condition that I won't have to speak to anyone."

"Splendid!" He took her hand and gave it a kiss. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow."

"I will see you tonight," she reminded.

"Ah, of course." He straightened and bounded toward the window. "My wait will be that much shorter then. I shall behold your beauty twice in one day. I am a lucky man."

"Flatterer." Noelle rolled her eyes at Clopin's exaggeration. True, she was no hag, and she did not lack for suitors in her younger years, but she was hardly the type mistrials wrote songs about.

"Until then, my flower." He swung his legs out of the window and in an instant he was gone.

Noelle let out an exasperated sigh, but still a smile tugged at her lips. "Au revior, Gros Nez."

[-]

 _Au revior, Gros Nez_

The words flitted in and out of his mind throughout the rest of his day. He wasn't sure why. In fact, he couldn't even be sure he'd heard correctly. He was nearly out of earshot, and they had been faint, but he could have sworn she'd said them.

 _Gros Nez. She called me Gros Nez. She hasn't called me that since…_

In truth, he couldn't remember how long. The instances were too many to count. Their childhoods were littered with exchanges of "Gros Nez" and "Carottes"(his name for her). At least, this was their way in their youngest years together. When they grew slightly older, and obtained a more vulgar vocabulary, they turned to exchanges of "Salaude" and "Garce". Always in jest and never in moments of true anger. Why spoil their special pet names by tainting them with malice?

 _Dwell on this later, you fool,_ he reprimanded himself. He had more pressing matters to attend to than an offhand nickname. He stood on the river bank with his back pressed against the base of the bridge. He kept his eyes on the water, waiting for a boat to cut through the fog. His ears were open to the stillness of the night, listening for footsteps.

Over the years he'd become a master at identifying people with only the sound of footsteps. Guards were easy. Their hard, clunky footsteps were all the same. Identifying individual people was trickier, but not impossible. Tonight, the ones he listened for were steady and certain.

He heard the footsteps approach as he spotted the silhouette of a small boat down the river. He kept his eyes on the boat as the footsteps stopped beside him.

"I see them," she whispered. "It's all clear."

Slowly, he came out of his hiding place and stood beside his friend. They watched silently as the boat drew closer. Neither one of them spoke until the boat stopped in front of them.

"Welcome to Paris," Clopin said as he greeted the boat's passenger. One woman and one baby, just as he expected. "I am Clopin, and my friend here is Noelle. You will be staying with her for the night." He gestured to Noelle as she gave the boatman a sack of coins.

The woman held her baby tighter and gave Noelle a wary look, understandably suspicious of the stranger. "Who is she?"

"As I said, a friend," Clopin answered. "She is an innkeeper. She'll give you a room for the night and in the morning you'll be just another face in the crowd."

"Come with me," Noelle said, appearing beside them. "We mustn't linger here."

She led them across the street, into an ally, and to the back door of her inn. Once inside, she quietly showed the woman to her room. "Tomorrow, I'll take you out the back again and Clopin will show you the way to the Court of Miracles." Noelle explained as she handed the woman the key to the room. "In the meantime, I can bring you something to eat if you like."

The woman smiled, her suspicions seemingly eased by her relative safety. "Thank you. You are very kind."

Clopin had to fight back a snicker, but he let some escape. "Yes, she is quite the saint."

Noelle shot him a quick glare before turning her attention back to the woman. "If you need anything, I'm here. My room is one floor up. Don't be afraid to ask."

They left the woman and her baby alone to rest. Noelle closed the door behind her and turned to Clopin who flashed her an amused grin.

"Shut up." She brushed past him and began making her way down to the kitchen.

"Is that any way for a saint to talk?" he said as he followed her.

"Salaude" she groaned in response.

"Oh, Salaude now is it?" he laughed. "That quite the change from this morning, Carottes."

"Ah, so you did hear me." Once in the kitchen, she lit a fire beneath a pot of stew.

He sat on stool by the fire to warm himself after standing out in the cold night for so long. "It was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one."

"I suppose I allowed myself a flicker of nostalgia this morning."

"I would not mind if those happened more often." He watched her, waiting for a response. She looked at him over her shoulder, but said nothing. "Well, I should be off."

He was almost out the door when he heard her say "Clopin, wait."

"Yes?" he turned around to see her back still toward him, her silhouette stark against the glow of the fireplace.

"You know, my father always kept a spare mattress hidden in his office," she said, still tending the stew. "Your father would sleep there some nights."

He smiled then, a soft smile. "Yes, I remember."

"It's still there, if you'd like."

"Thank you, but I don't think I can," he said, though he wasn't sure what held him back from accepting.

"Well, it's here if you need it." She finally turned toward him "It's here for you and I expect you to use it."

"I know."

"I mean it, Gros Nez. It's only going to get colder from here on out. It would not look good if the gypsy king froze to death two feet from my door."

"Fine, fine. I will make use of it.

"I know you will," she said walking up to him. In an echo of his earlier gesture, she slid a finger down his cheek. "I know how difficult it is for you to refuse me."

"Of course, Carottes." He removed her fingers from his face and brought them to his lips. "Do not forget, tomorrow."

She gave him kiss on his nose in return. "Tomorrow."


	2. Past 1: The Gypsy King's Counsel

**Past 1**

Young Clopin couldn't sleep, not when he could hear his father's whispered shouts echoing throughout the catacombs. _Who was the lookout? Who was our contact? Where did the boat land instead?_ To a stranger, his father may have sounded angry, perhaps frustrated, but Clopin detected something else in the man's voice. It was fear.

 _But, father is never afraid._ Now Clopin certainly wouldn't get to sleep. Silent as a shadow, Clopin got up from his straw mattress and crept through the corridors, following his father's voice. He finally caught sight of his father as he made his way toward an exit. Already a skilled pick pocket at the age of 8, Clopin had no trouble moving silently through the stone catacombs. He spent most of his days chasing stray cats around the city and copying their movements. But even a cat could not stop water from swishing with his footsteps. A small splash was what finally alerted his father to his presence.

Adrien Trouillefou unsheathed his dagger and turned toward the sound. "Show yourself," he demanded into the darkness.

"Papa," Clopin said, deciding it was best to give away his hiding place than to be cut to ribbons by his own father. "Papa, what is happening?"

"Clopin!" Adrien slid his weapon back into its scabbard and marched toward his son. "What are you doing here? Go back to bed."

"Something is wrong. I can tell. Where are you going, Papa?"

"This is none of your concern. Go back to bed, now."

"Are you going to come back to bed, Papa?"

Adrien was tired, too tired to engage in verbal battle with a child. "There will be no argument. You will turn back now, go back to your bed, and go to sleep. I do not want to hear another word from your lips unless it is 'yes, papa'. Is that clear?"

Clopin made no counter, but for his bottom lip which stuck out in defiance. "Yes, Papa" he muttered and turned as if to make his way back to the court. He stopped as soon as he reached the relatively dry floor of the catacomb. He waited and listened for his father to exit. Once he was sure his father had gone, he rushed forward and exited the tomb himself. Once outside, he could see his father's silhouette in the moonlight. It moved toward the city and he followed it.

[-]

Stealth wasn't the only thing one could learn from cats. By teenage years, Clopin would claim to know every stone and foothold of every building in Paris. For now, the way up to his friend's bedroom sufficed. He scaled the back walls of the Janvier Inn and slipped through the window.

Noelle's bed lay beneath the window and his feet landed on the mattress, waking the sleeping girl. She quickly sat up in bed and gasped at the dark figure in her room. Clopin leapt across the mattress and slapped a hand across her mouth to silence her. "Keep quiet," he whispered frantically. "It's only me."

The girl grumbled into his palm and pushed his hand away. "Why are you hear? It's the middle of the night. And why is it so cold?" Spying the open window, Noelle got up from her bed to close it.

"My father is here."

"So?" Noelle snapped, closing the shutters. "He's here a lot. He even comes at night sometimes. Go away. I want to sleep."

"This is different," Clopin argued. "I heard him talking. I think something is wrong."

"Wrong?" Her curiosity was peaked now. "Like what?"

"I don't know, that's why I followed him here." Clopin crept to the door and opened it a crack. He held his breath as he listened. He could hear muffled voices speaking down the stairs, but he could make out what they were saying.

"Well, hear anything?" Noelle whispered. By now, she had joined him at the door.

"I think my father is talking to your father, but I…can't tell…"

Noelle swung the door wide open. "Well, come on," she tossed over her shoulder as she stepped out into the hall. Clopin slipped out behind her and together the crept down the stairs. They stopped at the top of the flight leading down to the common room.

Rousse, Noelle's father, was seated at one of the tables while Adrien, Clopin's father, took a confrontational stance above him. The two men were a stark contrast of one another. Adrien was a tall, gruff man with the many years of his harsh life etched on his face. Tangled black hair flowed to his shoulders, tamed only by the feathered hat he wore on his head. A dark mustache grew down around his mouth and into a goatee. Perhaps the most prominent feature of his face was his crooked nose, broken multiple times in many a confrontation. His soft brown eyes, however, hinted his secret. He had a kinder heart than even he dared to admit.

Rousse sat with his face propped up by laced fingers, listening patiently to Adrien rant in a whisper about the events of that night. His green eyes burned with exhaustion, but still he kept them open as his friend went on. True to his name, he had a mop of red hair on his head and orange scruff covered his chin. Normally, he kept his hair neatly combed and trimmed, but in this late hour, he'd let it grow unruly. Rousse had the appearance of kindly, gentle man. By his nature, this was true, but in the streets he played the part of a cold, strict fundamentalist. He looked down on the less pious and showed the appropriate disgust at the supposed sinners. Only behind closed doors and in the shadows was he able to share his generous heart. The charade was necessary in order to keep the safe house a secret. The Janvier Inn was only one of several safe houses throughout the city. They were owned by people who were sympathetic to the gypsies' plight. They were a small circle, but they did their best to help those fleeing to or from Paris for safety.

When his friend his friend finished his hushed tirade, Rousse finally spoke. "It was two men and woman tonight, right?" he asked, trying to organize the information which he'd received in the passionate, curse-laden bluster.

"And a child, a baby," Adrien answered solemnly.

"They were all arrested?"

"The men were, the woman managed to run. Our lookout spotted her pounding on the doors of Norte Dame, but the doors did not open in time. Frollo caught up with her and he killed her."

"Killed her?" Rousse asked in surprise. "How?" It was no secret that Frollo was generous with the noose, but he never did the dirty work himself.

"He was trying to take her baby and he knocked her back. She fell and broke her head on the steps."

"And what did Frollo do to the baby?" Rousse asked hesitantly. He could not imagine Frollo bestowing mercy, even on a baby.

"He was going to throw it down a well, but the Archdeacon finally came out and stopped him. The lookout was too far to hear everything, but from what he could tell, the Archdeacon commanded that Frollo raise the baby as penance for killing the woman. Although, Frollo seems to have wormed his way out of that as well." A bitter sneer spread across Adrien's face. "The lookout said the Archdeacon was the one who took the baby into the church."

"You're certain it was a trap?" Rousse asked, raising his head.

"Did you not hear me? The boat did not land at the meeting place. Where it did land, they immediately met with a pack of guards and Frollo himself. Someone betrayed us."

"Who?"

"They were meant to go to Jamal."

"The baker? You think it was him?" Rousse asked, surprised. "True, he's only worked with us for a few years, but he's never faltered before. He's sheltered dozens of people over the years and they all say…"

"I know what they say!" Adrien slammed his hands down on the table. "They say he was kind to them. That he always made sure they were well fed. That he gave sweets to the children. I know he was a good man. I would not have trusted him otherwise."

"And you still accuse him?"

"I…" Adrien sunk down into a seat at the table. "There is no one else. Even the boatman was arrested. You know as well as I that every new person we trust brings great risk. But Jamal…he seemed just as worried as I was when no one showed up.

A grave, understanding groan rumbled from the back of Rousse's throat. "Anything to indicate it was an act?"

Adrien allowed himself a bitter chuckle. "If it was, he ought to leave his ovens behind and go perform for the King."

"What do you believe?" Rousse asked. "Do you think Jamal was the traitor?"

Adrien thought for a moment before speaking. "In my heart, I believe not. But the heart can be fooled."

"And the mind can fool itself, if one's not careful," Rousse countered.

Adrien was quiet for a long time then. He assessed Rousse's counsel and considered his options. "I shall hold off on accusing a traitor for now," he said thoughtfully. "I should wait, gather more information."

"A wise choice," Rousse agreed. "So, anything else you require of me? Apart from talking you out of killing Jamal in his sleep, I mean."

"When I find whoever betrayed us, their eyes will be wide open," Adrien replied with a dark grin. "But yes, there is one more thing. From now on, I want you to handle all departures and arrivals."

"All? I have only one spare room for them. How many do you have in mind?"

"None, for now. But, you know how these things can change in an instant. This will only be a temporary arrangement. With a traitor among us, I trust no one else."

On the stairs, the children had been listening intently, but now that the conversation turned to business, their interest dropped immensely. During the talks of traps and traitors, the two would pinch each other on the arm and using exaggerated faces to express their surprise, confusion, disgust, and the like. Now, both of them bored, Clopin pinched Noelle and, when she turned, he showed her the most grotesque face he could muster. Noelle retaliated by sticking her tongue out as far as it would go. They were so wrapped up in their face war that they didn't notice Noelle's older brother, Pascal, approaching them from behind.

"What are you doing?" he asked sleepily.

The children gasped and turned toward him. "Not so loud," Noelle snapped in a whisper.

He pushed his wheat blonde hair out of his tired green eyes, barely registering his younger sister's scold. A boy of thirteen, he was growing into a handsome young man. Already, he was coaxing giggles out of the young girls in Paris. "Why aren't you in bed?" he asked, not bothering to lower his voice. "And why are you here so late?" he said, turning his attention to Clopin.

"I said shut up, you stupid…"

"Hey!"

Adrien's call startled all three of them. Pascal, who until then had been half asleep, was stunned awake. The two younger ones tripped over each other as they tried to scramble up the stairs. They didn't make it far before Adrien's gloved had grabbed the back of Clopin's shirt.

"I thought I made myself clear," he growled. "I told you to go to bed, and I meant _your_ bed. Explain yourself."

Clopin opened his mouth to speak, though he really couldn't think of anything to say. At that moment, Rousse shushed everybody and peered out of the front window. Everyone else listened and they could hear the faint sound of footfalls and horse hooves outside.

"Soldiers," Rousse whispered. "They appear to be searching buildings."

"Making sure they haven't missed someone, no doubt" Adrien spat bitterly. He dropped Clopin and pointed upstairs sharply. "Go to Noelle's room and hide under her bed."

"But –"

"Now!"

Without another argument, all three children clambered up the stairs.

[-]

Noelle lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. She pulled the blanket up to her neck and pressed her back deeper into the mattress in order to produce some small sense of security. From downstairs, the muffled voices of her father and the soldiers rose to her ears. She couldn't make out the words, though she could make out the tones. The soldiers had banged loudly at the door and demanded entry. Her father argued sternly with them for a time, but eventually relented. She could tell, because she was now hearing the soldiers stomp up the stairs and wake up the guests.

 _Where did Adrien hide?_ She wondered as she clutched her blanket closer to her chest. _Will Clopin be alright? What will happen if they are found?_ She turned on her side and stared down at her mattress as if she could peer through it to see her friend underneath.

The door suddenly slammed open, causing her gasp and sit bolt-upright in her bed. A soldier stood in her doorway, peering into her room. When he took a few steps in, she could see that he was a younger man compared to most soldiers she saw. "Nothing in here," he called out the door to his mates. "This is just a little girl's room."

"Makes no matter," said another soldier as he strode into her room. This one was older and gruffer than the first one. "There's still plenty of places to hide." The older soldier began searching her room, opening her closet and moving furniture. The younger one followed his superior.

 _Stay silent, be brave,_ Noelle told herself. This was what her father always said to her any time they encountered Frollo and his men. She repeated these words to herself as the soldiers ransacked her room. Occasionally, she would glance down, wondering how Clopin was doing under her mattress.

"Check the bed," the older soldier commanded the younger. "Get up girl."

 _Stay silent, be brave. Stay silent, be brave._ She repeated to herself as the younger soldier hesitantly approached her and tried to coax the blanket from her grasp. The older man huffed and pushed the younger one aside. _Stay silent, be brave. Stay si-_ The older soldier ripped the blanket from her hands and grabbed her by the wrists.

"Papa!" she screamed. In an instant, she could hear her father's footsteps pound up the steps.

"Keep your hands off of my daughter!" he shouted when he reached her door.

The soldier dropped her arms and marched up to her father. "You dare command a senior member of the city guard, old man?"

"You've done your search. Now leave my family and my guests in peace," Rousse answered sternly.

The soldier sneered at this. He struck Rousse with the back of his hand, sending the man to the floor.

"Papa!" Noelle shrieked again.

"Father!" Pascal, who'd apparently been summoned by the commotion, came running in.

The older soldier looked back over his shoulder at Noelle. "Check under the bed," he commanded of the younger soldier. The man did as he was told. He stooped down and lifted the edge of the blanket to reveal only the bed frame's side paneling.

"Nothing" the young man said as he stood up. "No one could fit under there."

The older soldier nodded, though his dissatisfaction at finding nothing showed clearly on his face. "You'd do well to speak to us with more respect, Janvier," he said, turning back to Rousse who was still on the floor, rubbing his cheek. "I expect more from a man of your reputation." With that, the soldier strode out of the room, stepping over Rousse as he left. The younger soldier gave them a weak, apologetic look then followed after his superior.

Pascal helped his father up and Rousse stretched his sore muscles. Noelle opened her mouth to say something, but Rousse spoke first. "Stay there, Noelle. And Pascal, go back to your room." Her brother shuffled out into the hall, followed by her father. He closed the door behind him, leaving her in the dark again.

Noelle wanted to let Clopin out and tell him everything that just happened. She wanted to run after her father and hold him tight. She didn't do either of those things. Instead she sat perfectly still on her bed, afraid that any movement or sound would bring the soldiers back into her room.

After several long minutes of silence, the door to her room creaked open. Noelle held her breath, waiting to see who would enter. She let it go when she saw it was her father. "It's alright," he said softly. "The soldiers are gone."

Noelle leaned over the side of her bed and knocked on the side panel. Clopin pushed it up on its hidden hinges and crawled out from beneath the bed. "Where is my father?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"He is perfectly fine," Rousse answered, putting a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder. "We decided it would be safest if the two of you spent the night here. He is downstairs on the mattress in my office. You may sleep up here with Noelle, if you like."

"Alright," Clopin said, unsurely.

"Go right to sleep, you two," Rousse said, nudging Clopin toward the bed. "No fooling around up here."

"Papa?"

"Yes, Noelle?" Her father asked, turning to her.

"Why did the soldiers come?"

Rousse rubbed his exhausted eyes. "They were just…looking for someone."

"Were they looking for Clopin?"

"No"

"My father?" Clopin asked nervously.

"No, Clopin," Rousse answered, beginning to grow impatient.

"Then, why did they have to hide?"

"Because…no more questions," he said, moving toward the door. "Go to sleep, now."

"Papa?"

"Hush, child. Go to sleep." He answered, beginning to close the door behind him.

"I'm sorry."

Rousse stopped and opened the door again. "Sorry? Whatever for?"

"I screamed." Noelle twisted the blanket in her hands. "If I hadn't screamed, the soldier wouldn't have hurt you. I wasn't silent…or brave."

"What? _Ange,_ no." Rousse crossed the room again and placed his hand on his daughter's cheek. "That wasn't your fault. You were very brave. You kept Clopin safe. That's the important thing. Now go to sleep, _mon ange_." He gently laid her down in the bed. "You too, Clopin." He gave the boy one final nudge. "There has been far too much excitement this night."

Clopin climbed into bed with Noelle. He lied down on his side facing away from her. Noelle settled into her bed as well, facing Clopin's back. Satisfied, Rousse finally walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

They lied there in silence, waiting for sleep to come, until Clopin spoke up. "My father says it's because Frollo hates gypsies."

"Huh?"

"Frollo hates gypsies," he said again. "That's why we have to hide."

"Why does he hate gypsies?" Noelle asked, sitting up again.

"I don't know, but that's what my father says," he answered, staring into the darkness. "He says Frollo will find any reason to throw a gypsy in the dungeon, so we have to be careful."

Noelle quietly watched her friend for a moment, considering his words. "That isn't fair."

Clopin gave a slight shrug. "It's not fair, but Papa says that's the way things are."

Noelle lied back down again and threw an arm around her friend's shoulders. "I won't let him throw you in the dungeon," she whispered.

He made a "tsk" sound and rolled over to face her. A mischievous smirk found its way to his lips. "I don't plan on winding up there anyway."

As decided, Adrien and Clopin left at daybreak the next morning. A few days later, Adrien returned with news of the traitor. "It was the boatman," he said. "Apparently, his arrest was only for show."

"What do you mean?" Rousse asked. "How did you find this out?"

"The boatman had the misfortune of drinking at the same taverns as our lookout. As it turns out, he'd been arrested for smuggling a few weeks back. He struck a deal with Frollo to bring him any gypsies he'd been paid to smuggle into the city. The other night was their first time attempting this trap. They won't be getting a second attempt."

"Well…at least it wasn't someone from our circle," Rousse answered, still taking in this new information. "Adrien, do I want to know how you found all of this out? Or what has become of the boatman?"

"No…" Adrien answered after a moment of consideration. "It is probably best that you don't."


	3. Present 2: Rescue Attempt

Quick cathedral architecture vocabulary lesson before we start.

Sacristy: The section in the back of the church where the priest prepares for mass and keeps the materials for worship.

Nave: Large section of the church where the congregation is accommodated. (Basically everywhere Esmeralda was wandering during her song.)

Buttress: supportive pillar, usually made of stone or brick.

* * *

 **Present 2**

Noelle moved among the dispersing chaos, trying her best to look nonchalant while her eyes scanned the crowd for a sign. Though this wasn't a scenario they planned for, she was sure Clopin try to get a message to her in some way, even if the message came in the form of a side-long glance and a wink. He must have been coming up with some sort of plan. He was usually concocting three or four schemes at any given moment. Surely he was plotting the escape of his favorite protégé.

Though, she wasn't sure what she could expect after this day. No one could have predicted that the fabled bell ringer would descend from his tower, much less that he would attempt to join in on the festivities. Clopin spotted him right away. The wheels in his head began turning the moment he saw the bell ringer. She could tell by the mischievous grin which spread on his face as he chased the hunchback around. Just like that, he'd added a new event to whatever else he had in store for the crowd that day. Although, she couldn't tell if his plans were born out of selfishness or kindness. Whatever his intentions, they ended in disaster.

 _It seems I will have an answer soon,_ she thought as she spotted a brightly-colored puppet peak out from behind an abandoned festival booth. The puppet was clearly made in its creator's image, right down to the gloved hand which was waving her over. Slowly, she inched though the crowd, aimlessly milling about as all the other spectators were. She came to rest with her back leaning against the booth's post. The puppet's black dot eyes stared vacantly up at her. The puppet's hand tapped her lightly on the hip. "Alley, black smith," a voice whispered and the puppet swiftly ducked back behind the booth.

Noelle waited a few minutes before making her way toward the alley. Once she entered, she saw Clopin leaning with his back against a stone wall. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and waved her over. "Ah, Noelle, now…"

"What were you thinking?" Noelle interrupted, finally asking the question that had been on her lips for hours.

"What was _I_ thinking?" Clopin said incredulously.

Noelle went on as if she hadn't heard him. "The boy spends his life hiding in a bell tower. Why would you think he would want to be dragged in front of the crowd?"

"Excuse me? Did I imagine the smile on his face when he was crowned? He seemed to enjoy it."

"Yes, he enjoyed it. Right up until…"

"Ugh, no need to remind me." Clopin ran a hand down his weary face. "How was I to know the crowd would turn so ugly so fast? And the day began with such promise, too."

"And Esmeralda…"

Clopin scoffed as he turned in the direction of the cathedral and glared indignantly up at the building. "Why does that damned girl have to be such a brazen idealist? I should have drilled more cynicism into her."

Noelle placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "There will be time enough for that later," she told him.

"Later?" He turned his head toward her curiously.

"You're planning on her escape, yes?"

He immediately became alive again. "Of course, and I need you for it."

"I figured that much."

"Come with me." Clopin took her hand and lead her through a series of back allies. "Do you remember how we snuck in when we were young?" he asked, turning a corner.

"Yes, but that would require a door. Frollo has placed a guard at each one."

"Ah, yes, each large, discernable, ornate door has at least one guard posted in front of it. However, one door I've checked does not." They stopped at the mouth of the alley which faced the back of the cathedral. Across from them was a wooden door, still large though relatively smaller and less elaborately decorated than the others.

"The sacristy? You want us to go through there?"

" _I_ want to go through there. It's locked from the outside, though," he answered stroking his beard. " _You_ will go through the front door and let me in from the inside."

This was identical to the trick they used as children, though there was one glaring flaw. "The guard…"

"Is only there to catch Esmeralda when she comes out," he finished. "I've been watching them. No one is stopping the good citizens of Paris from going in. After all, they can't bar the church-goers from attending evening mass."

Noelle nodded. "So, I go in at evening mass and let you in while everyone in distracted."

"Yes, and while you're in there, you can look for Esmeralda. Let her know that I am coming for her."

"Sounds simple enough. Though, you don't seem too concerned about what could happen between now and mass."

"She has sanctuary. If she's smart, she'll stay put. Besides, she didn't seem too concerned about her own safety this morning." He said this last part bitterly. "Insulting Frollo in front of the entire city…Of all the insanely foolish...I thought I taught her to be cleverer than that. She could have put the whole court in danger. She'll be getting a piece of my mind tonight, that's for sure."

"I suspect you're only rescuing her so that you can yell at her," Noelle retorted with an amused smile.

"I can't lie to you, Noelle," Clopin said with a sigh. "That is part of my motivation."

"We have to get her out first."

"Of course. I'll be back here once I hear the bells for evening mass. When should I expect you?"

"I think it would be best if I slipped out of line after receiving communion. Once I get inside, I'll open the door and wave you over. We'll have to be quick, though. Mass ends soon after communion."

Clopin nodded. "I'll also need you to distract the Archdeacon while I leave the sacristy. Are we clear on the entire plan?"

"Yes."

"Good. I will see you again this evening."

[-]

Clopin watched from the shadows as Noelle entered the cathedral. Once she was in, he made his way to the alley across from the sacristy door. He waited, often checking to make sure no guards noticed their missed door. None had so far, but the guards were still posted outside the cathedral. He found Frollo's overreaction to be odd. All of this for being called a fool in front of a drunken, unruly crowd? Clopin had seen Frollo's guards loose interest in much shorter amounts of time for much more serious crimes. Did the judge really fear public humiliation this much? Finally, he saw the door open slightly and Noelle's hand wave him inside. Clopin darted across the street and slinked inside.

"Quickly now," Noelle said as she quietly closed the door. "I had to take a seat in the back and so I was one of the last to receive communion."

"Did you see her?" he asked. "Did you tell her I was coming?"

"No, I didn't see her, not in the nave anyway," she answered. Clopin scowled and looked away. Noelle placed a hand on his face and turned him back toward her. "The cathedral is immense. There are plenty of other places she can be."

His fingers curled around her hand and brought it down. "Well, if that's the case, we best start look-"

The sound of the door opening froze them both for a moment. Clopin quickly ducked behind a large table in the center of the room. Noelle shoved his hat down, noticing the tip sticking up from his hiding place.

The Archdeacon entered the room, surprised to see Noelle standing there. "Ah, Mademoiselle Janvier, is it? May I ask what you're doing back here?"

"Yes, I was waiting for you, Father," Noelle answered. "I was hoping you could take confession this evening."

"Of course, just give me moment to change out of these vestments. Is there something pressing on your mind?"

"No, I simply realized that I haven't been in a while and I didn't want to wait for fear I would forget again."

The archdeacon moved toward the wardrobe in the back of the room. Clopin was forced to slide around to the other side of the table. With the archdeacon's back turned, he took the opportunity to slip out of the door and into the nave.

Clopin tucked himself behind a buttress and glanced around. He never felt comfortable in this place. Technically there was nothing barring him from entrance. He'd never had to declare sanctuary himself, in fact he prided himself on being sly and quick enough to get around Frollo's soldiers undetected. The few times he had been in there though, he always felt unwelcome. It wasn't the Archdeacon. His reputation for kindness and compassion was known to all creeds and colors in Paris. No, it was the people. It was the glances and glares that said "what are you doing here? This isn't your place." Over time, he'd learn to ignore them the best he could. Tonight, though, he decided it was best to keep as hidden as possible. The Gypsy King waltzing around the cathedral after Frollo very publicly called for the arrest of the gypsy girl hiding inside would be much too suspicious.

For now, he was faced the problem of where to look. Noelle was right, this place was immense, cavernous even. Searching the entire place would take hours that he didn't have. _Come on, Clopin. You know her better than anybody. Where would she go?_ For as long as he'd known her, she had a tendency to wander off and explore. On a typical day, he could easily picture her picking a random direction and going off to see what secrets that cathedral held. _Secrets in the cathedral…_ He could think of one not-so-secret secret here, and he'd crowned it King of Fools just that morning. Esmeralda's heart clearly blead for the bell ringer. Was it possible she sought him out? Perhaps tried to check up on him?

Clopin spotted the enclosed spiral staircase which lead up to the bell tower. _Well, my search must start somewhere,_ he thought to himself. And so, he began his ascent.

Once he reached the top and stepped out onto the open walkway, he couldn't help but stop and take in the view. He'd seen the city at night hundreds of times, but never from this angle. It was too dark to see the streets and buildings in detail, but the moon and stars showed brightly in the night and reflected off of the waters of the Sane. _Perhaps Esmeralda is up here,_ he thought to himself. If nothing else, he could see her staying up here for the open air and the view alone. He stargazed for just one more moment before continuing with his search.

He reached the end of the walkway and stepped into the bell tower. It was darker inside without the benefit of the stars and moon for illumination. Though he could see the flicker of some candles on a platform a short ways up, they did him no good where he was standing. Moving as quietly as possible, he tried to navigate the indeterminate shapes in the dark. Though one false move sent his shin colliding with a hard, stone gargoyle. "Gah!" the cry escaped his lips and he quickly covered his mouth to cut off any further uproars. _Damn! Damn! Damn! So much for the notoriously stealthy gypsy king!_ Unable to curse and swear as he would have liked, he continued his tirade in his head. _What a place to keep a gargoyle! What was that hunchback thinking?_

"Who's there?"

The call came from the lighted platform above. _Damn that hunchback…_ Clopin was just beginning to realize how dangerous it was to come up here. The hunchback was more or less Frollo's pet, after all. At least, that was the rumor. His presence in the tower could easily make it back to Frollo.

Above him, he heard the wood begin to creak as the bell ringer made his way down. "I know someone's here," he called out again as he made his descent.

Clopin hid behind beneath the platform and behind the rickety wooden staircase. He watched as the hunchback climbed down onto the floor where he was standing. The boy looked around and took a moment to inspect the gargoyle which Clopin knocked into. He took one look out of the doorway and turned back. "I know you're still in here," he called again. Clopin listened to the voice curiously. He detected an interesting tone to it. The hunchback spoke with a fragile sort of authority, like a child trying his best to sound brave.

"Are you a soldier?" the hunchback called. Clopin could have laughed at that one. It was the only time in his life he was mistaken for a soldier.

"If you're a soldier, then get out! She has sanctuary!"

Now this was intriguing. Was Esmeralda up here after all? And the bell ringer was keeping Frollo's soldiers away? If she was, he knew he wouldn't be able to find her without also dealing with the hunchback. Slowly, he crept out of his hiding place, though he did not leave the shadows entirely. "You could not be more wrong, _mon ami_ ," he said, letting the charm seep from his voice. "I've come to help her, not arrest her."

"Who are you?" the hunchback asked, turning in the direction of Clopin's voice.

"I am a friend, her friend," he said as he inched out of the shadows. "I want to help her get home safely. Is that not what you want?"

The bell ringer paused a moment before silently making his way up the staircase. Clopin climbed up behind him. "Not sure if you can trust me, eh? I understand," he said conversationally. "I, too, am cautious when it comes to these sort of things." Clopin made it up to platform and followed as the hunchback scaled a ladder to yet another platform. "If you tell me where she is, I can make sure she makes it out of here. I promise you she will be pleased to see me. You see, I've known her since she was a child. I am like family to her." He finished his speech once he'd reached to top.

The bell ringer paused at the word, 'family.' He glanced back and his expression softened. Clopin followed as the bell ringer skulked forward. They moved past a table and onto a terrace behind it."You're too late," the bell ringer said. "She is already gone."

His heart stopped. "Gone? Gone where?"

"Home, I think," the bell ringer answered, looking out into the city. "She said something about the Court of Miracles."

"How exactly did she get past the guards?"

"We climbed down. Well, I climbed. She held on." As he spoke, Clopin looked down over the ledge, half expecting to see an Esmeralda-shaped smear on the cobblestones below. "I'm used to climbing around this place, so it was no trouble," the bell ringer finished.

"You climbed down?" Clopin asked, as if trying to work out a complicated riddle.

The bell ringer shyly glanced away. "Yes, well, not down the front, obviously. We went down a side where no soldiers were."

Clopin paused a moment, still taking everything in. "You helped her escape…"

"Yes. We couldn't have gone through a door because the guards were there. So, I…"

"Why?"

"P-pardon me?" the bell ringer stammered.

"Why did you do it?" He was still trying to wrap his head around this. In a city of rumors and gossip, everyone had a reputation, even the hidden bell ringer. It was said that the boy was shy and gentle, but also completely obedient to his master, Frollo. Did this same boy defy his master to aid the people his master notoriously hates?

A bashful smile came to the bell ringer's face. Were it not so dark, Clopin was sure he would see the boy blush. "She was kind to me. She wasn't like…" he cut himself off and looked up at Clopin, seeming to suddenly remember he was talking to another gypsy. "Well, like my master said she would be."

Suddenly, everything fell into place. Being a practiced liar himself, Clopin was good at detecting lies. In the bell ringer, he saw nothing but sincerity. The boy was simply grateful for being shown a shred of kindness for once in his life. "And what will you say when Frollo asks you how Esmeralda escaped?"

"Oh, I don't think he'll ask me. He never talks to me about this sort of thing."

"Hmmm…I suppose you would know more about that than I, but I would advise you to think of something to say, just in case." Clopin gave the boy a light pat on the shoulder and turned to leave.

He was nearing the end of the platform when Quasimodo called out to him. "Wait," the boy called hesitantly. "I have a question. Did you know who I was? At the festival?"

A cringe tugged at the corner of Clpoin's mouth as the events of the day came rushing back him. "I…could not know for certain, but I suspected."

"So, then, did you know what would happen?" There was a hint of anger underlying the boy's usually shy and unsure tone.

Clopin took some time choosing his words. He knew he had to tread cautiously here. "The Feast of Fools is usually a time when things that are strange or different are welcome, even celebrated. When I saw you, I thought 'Who better for King of Fools than the strangest man in Paris?' I assumed the crowd would think the same."

"You were wrong." Quasimodo said with firmly. His tone startled Clopin. It was the first time the boy sounded certain of anything in their entire conversation.

"Yes…" Clopin answered solemnly "I was." This was the closest Quasimodo was going to get to an apology from Clopin. They weren't something he typically handed out freely, especially not to people he barely knew. But, in this case, he felt he owed the boy something. "Farewell, Quasimodo," Clopin said as he turned and put his feet on the top rung of the ladder. "I…I never wished to cause you any harm."

"Wait," Quasimodo called again. Clopin stopped at the top the ladder. "How did you know my name?"

Clopin smirked and glanced up at him. "Let's just say, I've heard it before."

[-]

By the time Clopin descended the steps from the bell tower, all of the parishioners had left save for a few lingering in the pews or praying before the statues. Even those were beginning to thin out. He spotted Noelle at the votive candles with her cloak hanging over her shoulders. He silently approached her and watched as she stuck the match, setting it aflame.

"Where is she?" Noelle asked, not looking up from her candles.

"Not here," Clopin answered. "Apparently she didn't need our help to escape."

"Are you certain it was escape and not capture?" she asked, lighting a candle

"Frollo's men are still outside, aren't they?"

"Mmm…" Noelle murmured in understanding. She lit another. "How did you learn about her esacpe?"

Clopin smirked. "It was the bell ringer of all people."

"Really?"

"Yes, he saw me sneaking about and he told me some outlandish story about climbing down from the bell tower."

Noelle gave him a skeptical look. "And you believed him?"

"Strangely, his story made perfect sense," Clopin said thoughtfully. "…too much sense to have been made up on the spot."

"Your stories always made perfect sense too," Noelle pointed out.

Clopin grinned widely. "That's because I am brilliant."

"Of course you are…" she deadpanned in reply, though a small smile began to form on her face.

Clopin observed as Noelle touched the flame on her match to a candle's wick. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she retorted. "I lit one for my mother and father. This one is for my brother."

"Prayer candles? I had no idea you were so devout."

"I think it's a nice gesture is all," she explained calmly as she lit two more candles. "My brother and I used to light one for our mother every week after mass. You know, when your father died, my father would light a candle for him every Sunday. When he also died, I continued the tradition. I light one for your mother as well."

"So you light them for the dead," he stated matter-of-fact. "But your brother is alive, unless there's news you haven't shared with me."

Noelle gave an exasperated sigh. "He is alive as far as I know, but the way he traipses around France, not a care in the world…someone needs to keep his well-being in mind. Lord knows, he doesn't."

"What are the dead going to do with a bunch of candles? Either they've got better things to do or worse things to worry about."

She lit one more. "Are you quite finished criticizing my candles?"

"Hmmm…" Clopin brought his fist to his chin, as if deep in thought. "Yes, I am finished."

Noelle blew out her match. "Fine, then. I am finished as well. Shall we go?"

"You didn't need to wait for me to come back, you know." Clopin remarked. "You could have left."

"You didn't need to wait for me to finish my candles, but you did," Noelle pointed out in return. "Are you going to leave through the sacristy? The archdeacon has retired for the night, so you should have no trouble."

"I'll need to, unless you can distract the guards long enough for me to disappear into the night." He gave her a mischievous grin.

"Distract them how?" she retorted.

"You know, by using your womanly attributes." He made a show of looking her up and down.

"Giving birth on the church steps would be pretty distracting…"

"If you think that'll get the job done."

"Well, you better pray the angel Gabriel visits me in the next few seconds. Otherwise, we'll be missing a key element to this plot."

"Seeing as we are in short supply of miracles at the moment, I suppose the sacristy will have to do," Clopin answered. "I better go quickly. I have to make sure she made it back alright."

"Yes, you should. You will let me know if you need anything else, I don't doubt." She reached up and straightened his hat. "Goodnight, then. I wish you safe travels."

"Are you going to light a candle for that as well?" he quipped with an impish smile.

Noelle smirked in return. "Perhaps I'll light one and pray for a less mocking friend."

"You would never wish for such a thing." Clopin answered. "Goodnight, my most clever friend.'

He slipped away then and made his way toward his exit. He slipped though the sacristy door, checked for guards, and ran off into the alley. From the church steps, Noelle watched as Clopin disappeared into the shadows. Once he was out of sight, she flipped up the hood of her cloak, and took off in her own direction.


	4. Past 2: The Monster

**Past 2**

"Clopin, I'm bored. How long do I have to sit on the box?" Noelle mumbled, slouching her head into her hands. She glanced lazily around the alley they'd chosen to play in, looking for something at least a little interesting to look at. Instead, her eyes fell back on Clopin who was busy battling imaginary pirates with a stick.

"It's not a box, it's the brig," Clopin answered, slicing through the air with his stick. "And you have to wait until I kill the evil Captain Skinbones."

"But why, though?"

"Because…" Clopin groaned, as if it should have been obvious. "You're the daughter of a wealthy merchant and Captain Skinbones kidnapped you for ransom. So, the merchant hired a better pirate, me, to rescue you."

"You said we were going to play pirates," she huffed, crossing her arms. "You never said anything about just sitting around."

"We _are_ playing pirates. Just wait for me to rescue you. Then, we'll swing over to my ship and you'll give me a kiss as a show of gratitude."

"Bloody hell…" Noelle grumbled. She got up off of the box and picked up a stick of her own.

"Trust me, it's how these stories go," he said, still swiping imaginary pirates with a stick. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Noelle downing her own pirates. "Hey, you can't do that. You're locked in the brig."

"I'm breaking out," she declared, brandishing her stick.

"But…But you can't just…"

"Look out!" Noelle thrust her sick over Clopin's shoulder and stabbed at the air behind him.

"What was that?" he asked, looking behind him.

"I just saved your life," Noelle answered proudly. "That pirate almost cut your head off."

A mischievous grin spread across Clopin's face. "Oh yeah, well…Watch out!" he pushed Noelle out of the way and swiped at the air. "The first mate was going to run you through. Good thing I was here to save you."

"We're surrounded," Noelle said, taking to Clopin's back.

"Think we can cut through them?" he whispered out of the corner of his mouth.

Noelle formed a mischievous grin of her own. "Of course."

And so, they began their spectacle. Their shouts and laughter mixed with the sounds of chaos as they enacted their daring escape. They slashed and stabbed at invisible pirates, jumped off of crates, and generally made all of the commotion an epic battle should have.

"Damn noisy kids!" an angry voice called from a high window of one of the buildings. "Go play somewhere else!"

Noelle jumped out of the way of the window, so as not to be seen, but Clopin moved to the middle of the alley to get a better look.

"Hark, a voice from above!" he called back up at the window. "Are you God or just an angel?!"

"Smartass kid! I said get out! Do you need a smack on the ear to help with your hearing?!"

This time it was Noelle who shouted back. "You didn't say 'get out', you said 'go play somewhere else!'"

"Do you need a smack on your head to help with your memory?!" Clopin added.

"That's it, I'm coming out!"

Noelle tugged hurriedly at Clopin's arm, but her smile hadn't left her lips. "Let's go! Let's go!"

They dropped their sticks and ran through the allies, too full of childish ecstasy to worry much about being caught. The sounds of their laughter bounced off of the walls of the surrounding buildings as they ran this way and that, trying to get as far away as possible. They finally came to rest at the mouth of an alley and tried to catch their breath.

"Do you think he followed us?" Noelle asked between gasps.

"Nah," Clopin answered after a moment of panting. "He only said that to make us go away." He leaned his back against a wall and let his breathing steady. He glanced out to the square, noticing for the first time that the cathedral now lay before them. Suddenly he remembered something, and the wheels in his brain began turning. "Hey, did you hear about the monster?" he asked, his breath now back to normal.

"Huh?" Noelle took one long breath to steady herself as well.

"You know, they monster everyone says is up in the bell tower."

"Oh yeah, I did hear about that. I don't think it's real though."

"What? It must be real if everybody's talking about it." The two children gazed up at the cathedral from their hiding place in the alley. Clopin clutched the corner of a building and squinted his eyes, trying to force them to see into the distant bell tower. Noelle leaded out from his side, regarding the bell tower with only doubt.

"I heard it has green skins, claws, and a tail," Clopin said, eyes still fixed on the building.

"Who says?" Noelle challenged.

"Gerard," Clopin answered, referring to a gypsy boy a few years older than them.

Noelle broke her disbelieving gaze from the bell tower and turned it on Clopin. "Gerard told you the baker's wife was secretly a man."

"We have no proof that she isn't."

"She has three kids."

"So? They could be foundlings."

"She had one of them last year. And I saw her feeding it once when my papa took me over to their house."

Clopin let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine, so she's a woman," he relented. "But that doesn't mean he's not right about this."

"It doesn't mean he _is_ right about this," Noelle argued. "Besides, I heard it has scales, snake fangs, and a third eye."

"Aha!" Clopin grinned victoriously and pointed an accusing finger at Noelle. "So you do believe in the monster in the bell tower."

"I don't know," she retorted stubbornly. "Papa takes me to church every Sunday and I've never seen it."

"You ever been up in the bell tower?"

"No."

"Then how would you know?"

Noelle sighed and slunk against the wall in defeat. "We'll never know unless we see it."

The whole city was abuzz with the rumors of the secret Frollo kept in the bell tower. They began when people noticed that the judge now visited the cathedral at least three times a week, sometimes more. They only strengthened when people said that he usually went straight to the bell tower. Some people swore that they heard the cries of an infant up there, creating the rumor that the famously pious judge was not as chaste as he might claim.

Some couldn't believe that the child was actually his. Noelle learned this from a conversation she overheard in the common room at the inn. "You expect me to believe that he has a cock?" the man had said. "A cock that he _used?_ Not possible."

Some people, mostly teenagers and older children, claimed to have snuck up to the bell tower to get a glimpse of the baby. From this, the rumor of the monster child in the bell tower was born. How the monster looked varied according to the story one heard, and the more outlandish claims were made mostly by children. But all agreed it was a grotesque sight, especially the ones who had never actually seen it.

Clopin, for one, was itching for the chance to see it for himself. "I have an idea," he said. He pulled Noelle in, and whispered his plan to her.

"Alright," Noelle answered. "Though I don't see why you can't just go through the door like a normal person."

"Because…" Clopin groaned. "It's just how these things are done. We're sneaking up to the bell tower, so it only makes sense to sneak into the cathedral too."

Noelle sighed. "Where do you get these ideas?"

In truth, Clopin mainly got these ideas from stories. He loved nothing more than hearing a good story. In the court, there was an old woman, who everyone called Nana, who spent her days telling stories to the children. Clopin was by far her most loyal fan. At least once a day he'd seek her out and ask to hear one of her stories. He enjoyed the scary ones and the funny ones. He tolerated love stories mostly on the off chance there would be a swordfight at some point. The stories he loved the best, however, were the adventure stories. They usually revolved around a brave sellsword, a charming rouge, or sometimes a charismatic pirate committing daring feats, using their courage and their wit to win the day.

"Why can't I sneak in too?" Noelle complained.

"You're helping me sneak. That's like sneaking," Clopin explained. "Besides, I'm better at it anyway. You can't even lie to your father."

"Fine, I'll help you sneak," Noelle huffed. "But you'd better be there when I open the door or I'm going to go look for the monster myself."

"I will. Now go. I want to get on with it."

Noelle took off toward the cathedral. Clopin watched as she entered through a side door. A few moments later, she opened the sacristy door and appeared in the doorway. Clopin ran across the street and went in.

Together they stepped out into to the nave. Clopin darted toward the stairs. He thought Noelle was right behind him, but when he glanced back, he saw her lingering by the votive candles. "Carottes…what the hell…" he whispered.

Noelle quickly extinguished a match and scampered back over to Clopin. They both ducked inside the stairwell. "What was that?" Clopin asked in a sharp, hushed tone.

"I always light Mama a candle when I come here," Noelle answered. "Are you sure this is the way?"

"We have to go up some way," Clopin answered, beginning up the stairs. "It will be easier to find the bell tower once we're up there."

They climbed up the staircase, eventually coming out somewhere high above the city. They stepped out onto a stone walkway and, intent on their mission, ran clear across to the next tower. There, they found themselves at the bottom floor of a series of platforms. "Look," Noelle said, pointing upward. Above their heads hung several brass bells, varying in size, though all very large.

"Lucky us," Clopin said with a smile. "This must be the place."

"So then where's the monster?"

"Must be on one of the other platforms," he said, moving toward the wooden stairs. "Come on."

They climbed the stairs to the empty platform. They both spotted the ladder leading to the next platform and began to climb. Clopin reached the platform first. Once he was at the top, he stopped, staring ahead at what the platform held. Before him was a simple, wooden crib silhouetted by the sunlight coming in from the open archway behind it.

"What is it?" Noelle asked, reaching the top rung. "Do you see it?" She stopped as well when she saw what Clopin was looking at. Together they stood at the edge of the platform, staring apprehensively at the crib.

"You go first," Clopin said nudging Noelle forward.

"Me? You go first," Noelle replied, giving him a nudge back. "You're the one who was so sure it was there."

"Well, you're the one who didn't believe it existed," Clopin argued.

"Fine, we'll both look at the same time. That's fair right?"

Clopin nodded in agreement. They waited one more moment to gather up their courage and then crept slowly up to the crib. They both placed their hands on the crib's frame and, at the exact same moment, leaned their heads over the side. After one look, they groaned and slumped their shoulders.

"Aw, that's not a monster," Clopin moaned, not hiding his disappointment in the slightest.

"This is what everyone's talking about?" Noelle asked in disbelief. "Just an ugly baby?"

"No scales, no claws, just two eyes…" he went on, pacing away from the crib.

"It's got a lump on one eye," Noelle pointed out.

"Oh a lump…" Clopin said in an exaggerated tone of discovery. He whirled back around to face her. "What's a lump compared to a tail?"

"It could still have a tail," Noelle said, looking intently into the crib. The baby inside was laying on its back, fast asleep. In addition to the lump on its eye, it also had a squished-up nose, a hump on its back, and a sprout of red-brown hair growing out of the top of its misshapen skull. It wasn't cute, but it in no way lived up to the tales they heard on the street.

"I guess. Maybe if we flip it over…" Clopin reached into the crib and scooped the baby on one side. Once he jostled the baby, it woke up with a cry.

"Damn, you woke it up," Noelle scolded over the wails.

"I wasn't trying to," Clopin argued. "Make it stop, Carottes."

"Me?" Noelle shot back. "You woke him up, Gros Nez. Why should I do it?"

"You're a girl. You should know about babies."

"But I don't know anything about babies."

"Sing it a lullaby."

"You're a better singer. You do it."

By some miracle, despite the baby's crying, they heard voices coming in from the walkway below.

"Someone's coming," Noelle gasped and they began frantically looking for a hiding place.

"Up there." Clopin pointed at a ladder leading up to the bells themselves. Quietly, the both scrambled up the ladder and took shelter on the beams and planks surrounding the bells. They lay face-down on a thick beam, clutching the edges for support. Their eyes peaked over the ledge, hoping to get a glimpse of who was coming.

"I am a busy man, Archdeacon, and there are many important matters which require my attention," said a deep, droning voice. "I cannot waste my time playing mother to this creature."

The two men walked into view. They children glanced at each other wide-eyed when they saw that it was the Archdeacon and Judge Claude Frollo.

"Do you consider your penance a waste of time?" the Archdeacon scolded as he picked the baby up out of the crib and rocked it soothingly. "I am also a busy man, but I still find time to care for the child. This is _your_ penance, Frollo, and you must take this responsibility seriously."

"I do take it seriously, but I don't see what more you expect me to do for it at this age," Frollo replied with cold eloquence. "I am not a woman. I cannot give it milk or sooth its cries. I have given you the coin necessary to clothe and feed the child, and paid for whatever else the baby requires. Once it is old enough, I can begin to teach it its letters and numbers, if it is capable, but for now there is nothing more I can do."

"You can give him some of your time," the Archdeacon answered. By this time, the baby finally stopped crying and was now happily playing the cross dangling from the Archdeacon's neck. "You need to let him grow used to you. Try to bond with him. You may find yourself growing fond of him."

Frollo's face twitched in disgust, but he made no reply.

The Archdeacon went on, ignoring this. "I propose that from now on you spend at least one hour per day with him. Surely you can fit that in your schedule."

"Of course," Frollo complied, gritting his teeth.

"And another thing, you must give the boy a name. You can't keep calling him, 'it'."

"I have been thinking on that, Archdeacon, but I have yet to decide on one."

"Very well, but until then at least refer to him as 'he' and not 'it.' He is not an animal, Frollo. He is your child." The Archdeaon placed the baby into Frollo's arms. Frollo scowled and the baby babbled in protest, but the Archdeacon simply turned and began to walk out.

"Where are you going?" Frollo called to him.

The Archdeacon called back, never turning to them. "As I said before, you need time to bond with the child."

Frollo glared down at the baby, who once again began to cry in earnest. "Quiet," he sneered, but this only served to make the baby cry harder. Frollo clumsily tried to bounce the baby as the Archdeacon had. This seemed to calm the boy some, but he did not stop crying until he managed to grab ahold of the sash which dangled from the judge's hat.

"Heh, bond with you," he spat, watching the boy carefully play with the fabric in his tiny hands. "As though anyone could feel affection for something like you. A misshapen, half-formed…yes… Quasimodo. If you must have a name, it may as well be one that suits you."

The baby, now named Quasimodo, paid him no mind. He was much more interested in running the sash through his little hands than in anything the judge had to say.

"Yes, I will do as the Archdeacon says. I will educate you, assuming your mind is not as misshapen as your face. I will find some useful purpose for you. If I must be saddled with you, I will make sure you serve me loyally."

Once the baby had calmed down, Frollo put him back in his crib. After that, Frollo took out some paper and began writing, trying to at least use his required time with the baby to get some work done. Once his time was up, he simply walked out without even acknowledging the baby.

"That was close," Clopin said, swinging himself up into a sitting position.

"How long have we been up here?" Noelle asked, carefully pushing herself up.

Clopin shrugged. "I guess the judge stayed for his whole hour." He held on to the beam with both hands and hopped onto his feet. Noelle slowly pushed herself to stand. She wobbled a bit, but Clopin caught her by the hand and helped her straighten herself out. She held on to him for balance until they reached the ladder.

"Ugh, papa's going to be so angry. We're going to be late for our lesson," Noelle groaned as the climbed down.

"So what?" Clopin said, jumping off of the bottom rung. "It's just one lesson."

"He's going to make you do extra letters if you keep talking like that," Noelle answered as she stepped onto the platform beside him.

They began making their way to the edge of the platform and the next ladder. They hesitated going past the crib where the baby lay once again. It felt wrong to just walk out without acknowledging him in some way.

"Farewell, baby," Clopin tossed out with a flourish of his hand. He felt it was the best he could do, given the situation.

"No, his name is Quasimodo now," Noelle reminded him. "Didn't you hear?"

Clopin curled his lips in disgust. "I'm not going to call him that. Frollo just gave him that name to be mean." Clopin glanced at the baby and something clicked in his brain. Something about Frollo and a baby; he'd heard it before. "Say, do you think this is the baby from that night?" he asked, moving toward the crib once again.

"What night?" Noelle asked.

"The night I followed my father to the inn," Clopin answered looking inside the crib. Quasimodo hadn't gone back to sleep. Instead, he was busying himself by playing with his own toes.

"Oh, right." She'd been so preoccupied with the soldiers that night, she nearly forgot about the conversation their fathers had. Noelle walked over to the crib and looked inside as well. "I guess it must be. Poor thing. He has to spend his whole life with Frollo."

"Right…" Clopin mumbled distantly, the wheels turning in his mind. "What if we took him with us?"

"What?"

"You know, save him. We'd be heroes."

"No, we'd be criminals. That's stealing."

"Listen, if he is that baby, then he's a gypsy anyway which means he should be part of the Court." Clopin explained. "He can't possibly have a good life with Frollo. My father's always telling me that someday my job is going to be protecting the Court. If I take him, that's exactly what I'd be doing."

"Would your father like that?" Noelle retorted. "Just bringing a strange baby home?"

Clopin sighed. "No, I guess not. He doesn't even like it when I bring stray cats home."

"How would we get him down stairs anyway? He'll just start crying again."

"I guess you're right…" he said, tearing himself away from the crib.

Noelle walked over to the edge and got on the ladder. "Come on, let's go."

They stepped outside and were immediately distracted by the view. Worries about lessons and parental punishments were forgotten once they caught a glimpse of the bright blue sky before them. The two children rushed to the side and leaned out as far as they dared to go. The rooftops stretched out for miles. The day was so bright that they could see clear out to hills beyond the city. In the streets below, they could see the people bustling about, going through their day.

Clopin could only stare, mouth agape. "Magnifique…" he whispered to himself. He loved the clear blue color of the sky and the way the sunlight reflected off of the waters of the Saine. He thought he'd never seen such a beautiful sight before.

"Wow, look at this," Noelle gasped, leaning her hands on the balustrade. "You can see the whole city up here."

"Can you see the inn?" Clopin asked, scanning the rooftops.

"No," she sighed. "We're on the wrong side. What about the Court of Miracles? Can you see it?"

Clopin tightened his lips into a hard line and stared fixedly ahead.

"You don't have to tell me where it is. I'm just wondering is all," Noelle clarified, noting her friend's defiant expression.

After a pause, Clopin replied, "No, I can't see it." It wasn't a lie.

"What's wrong?" Noelle asked, noting his chilly demeanor.

Clopin just shrugged and brushed past her. He stepped into the staircase and started to make his way down.

"I'm sorry," Noelle called, following him down the spiral staircase. "I shouldn't have asked about the Court, okay?"

Clopin paused and glanced up at her. "It's just…you know I'm not supposed talk about that, Noelle. Not even with you. Your father doesn't even know where it is."

"I know, I'm sorry. I promise, I'll never, ever ask about the court again. Are you done being mad at me now?"

"I'm not mad, I just…I don't know." He plopped down miserably onto one of the steps and buried his face in his knees. The problem was, he wanted to tell her. He wanted to take her down there, show her the creepy catacombs, let her taste his mother's cooking, and listen to one of Nana's stories. But he shouldn't want to tell her, because that would mean putting the Court in possible danger. His father drilled into him how important it was to keep the Court's location a secret and Clopin knew his father was right. He just hated that he could never share this part of his life with his best friend. Just like he hated how he had to climb through the inn's windows if he wanted to see her, or how he always had to hide when the guards came by, or…

"Hey…"

He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see that Noelle was now sitting on the step beside him. She took her right hand off of his shoulder, spit into her palm, and held it in the air. "Clopin, I promise to never make you tell me anything you're not allowed to tell me and to never share your secrets. And…" She sighed and begrudgingly continued, "…and I'll play the damsel in distress if you _really_ want me to."

Clopin smiled then. He spit in his palm as well and repeated her gesture. "Noelle, I promise to tell you anything I'm allowed to and to keep your secrets too. And, you don't have to be the damsel in distress again."

They put their spit-on palms together and shook on it.

"Besides…" Clopin said after a vigorous handshake. "It's more fun when we fight together."


	5. Present 3: The Meeting

**Present 3**

Being King of the Gypsies gave Clopin an odd sort of authority. The title of "king" was almost a joke considering his miserly funds. His people weren't obligated to give him any reverence or ceremony. If he told any of them to bow to him, they'd simply laugh in his face. He could give them instructions, but it was no guarantee that they'd follow. And yet, they still looked to him for leadership and guidance. They trusted him to keep them and their loved ones safe. Occasionally, they looked to him for justice if one of his people was proven to be guilty of a serious crime. As none of them trusted the judge, he carried out the sentencing himself. Mostly, though, he was expected to stand between them and the likes of Frollo.

Clopin could see the storm brewing early on and he warned his people. He told them that anyone who could leave should leave. Some headed his advice and left the city. Others scoffed at him and dismissed his warnings as paranoid ramblings. A few outright refused to leave out of pride, declaring they would not be driven from their home by Frollo. Many, unfortunately, were unable to go as they lacked the means or the health necessary for travel.

He'd spoken separately to the other gypsies who were tasked with protecting the Court. They didn't have specific titles, but were rather men with talents which would best be used protecting their people. At his earlier meeting, he discussed how to keep the court secure during this crisis. But the fact was that they simply couldn't house the entire gypsy population of Paris in one place.

Tonight, he gathered the owners of their circle of hideaways in order to discuss, or rather beg for, shelter for gypsies during Frollo's current warpath. He sat at the end of a long table in the common room of the Janvier Inn. He took a steadying breath and looked around the table. Noelle sat on his right side, her ice blue eyes attempting to convey something like reassurance, though they were too clouded with worry to have the desired effect. Across from Noelle sat Marius, the current blacksmith, who never missed an opportunity to be petty toward her. He glared at her, still bitter over a slight which was over a decade old. _At least they have the good sense to be civil when it matters,_ Clopin thought, noting that the two had yet to make any rude remarks. Next to Marius sat his youngest brother Leonard, an awkward but friendly man. Leonard sat with his wife, Faye, a seamstress with a sweet and gentle nature. Together, they seemed a perfect couple who could make a pair of fairy tale lovers envious. Even their chestnut brown hair was a perfect match.

Across from Clopin, at the opposite end of the table, sat Jamal, the baker. Among everyone present, Jamal was the oldest and most experienced person there, as he'd first worked with Clopin's father. To Jamal's left sat Rayna, a plump, middle-aged tavern keeper. She was well known for her boisterous personality, outliving three husbands, and not giving a single fig what anyone thought of her.

Next to her sat Gerard, a gypsy who had a talent for getting his hands on important information, particularly about the movements of Frollo's guards. Normally, Clopin's uncle, Salomon, would be attending a meeting like this. However, because he was in charge of their contacts outside of the city, he was not presently in Paris and the danger prevented him from returning. _Lucky bastard,_ Clopin thought, looking down the table at the anxious people he now had to deal with on his own.

Clopin took one last steadying breathe and began. "Friends, I don't believe I need to tell you why we are here."

"Because Frollo's gone even madder than usual," Rayna answered, raising her voice.

"Keep your voice down," Marius snapped. "The guests will hear."

"It's alright. I don't have any guests right now," Noelle countered. "I advised them all to leave the city before things got any worse."

"You just love to contradict me, don't you?" Marius snarled at her. Noelle crinkled her eyebrows and opened her mouth to retort, but Clopin cut in before the two could resort to bickering.

"Rayna is right. Frollo is trying to destroy my people. We've always suffered injustice at Frollo's hands, but this is unlike anything we've seen before."

"And Noelle was right to send her guests away," Gerard added. "Frollo has begun blocking the roads to the city. They will not let anyone in or out. If they had stayed, her inn would be full and it'd be of no use to us."

Marius mumbled something about taking sides, but Clopin chose to ignore it. This discussion was far too important to let it get derailed by petty arguments. "The Court of Miracles is still our strongest secret, but I cannot keep every gypsy in the city there. I need to know I can count on you all to help me keep my people safe."

"What exactly do you want us to do?" Leonard asked.

"The same thing you've always done," Clopin answered. "I need you to shelter some of my people from Frollo. Only now, I don't know how long you will need to keep them hidden."

"How will you get them to our safe houses with the guards keeping constant watch?" Faye asked, concerned.

"They don't keep constant watch," Gerard explained. "I've noticed gaps in their rounds. They have several shift changes throughout the day. The safest time to travel is at first light. The morning guards are just reporting for duty and receiving their orders for the day. The ones on the night shift are too tired by then to keep vigilant. The whole transition takes about an hour, leaving the back streets of the city mostly unattended."

Marius, whose frown only grew as he listened, spoke up. "How long do you think this will last? Do you expect us to hide them forever?"

Clopin signed and looked down at the candle on the table. "All things must come to an end. This won't be forever." He hoped they believed his words. He was still trying to convince himself.

"Yes, it will end," Marius scowled. "It will end with all of us in a noose."

A smirk came to Gerard's lips as he quipped. "Really? All eight of us in one noose? What an unorthodox hanging that would be."

"It's too dangerous," Marius said, getting to his feet. "You must realize the risk you are asking of us."

Clopin scowled back at Marius, but he was trying hard to keep a firm grasp on his temper. "Don't talk to me about risk, Marius. I know all about danger. It is a risk just for my people to be alive and breathing right now."

"Yes, and it's a load of horse shit," Rayna cut in. "Danger comes with the territory in the circle. No one is forcing us to be here tonight. We all knew this from the beginning and we all willingly took up the task."

Marius's glare turned to Rayna. "Perhaps you chose, Rayna, but some of us were born into this madness."

"If that's how you feel, you should have left years ago" Noelle said, rising suddenly. "You have four younger brothers. You could have left your father's business to one of them and walked away from this 'madness' forever."

"You mean the way your deadbeat brother threw away his life?" Marius shot back.

Leonard cringed and tugged on his brother's arm, trying to get him to sit down. "Marius, I don't think that's…"

"Don't you dare insult my family," Noelle snapped.

Marius pulled his arm away from his brother and leaned in on the table. "After the way you insulted my family? I'll say anything I want about them."

"Marius, don't start," Clopin growled in warning.

Marius ignored him. "Of course, casting things aside must run in your family."

Noelle scoffed. "Are you serious?"

"Please don't do this again, Marius," Leonard begged, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"The way you callously threw aside my brother…"

"Please don't drag me into this," Leonard begged again.

"You forced him to settle on a lesser arrangement…"

"Settle?" Noelle scorned. "Why don't you ask your brother if he thinks he settled? Or better yet, ask my cousin if she thinks she's 'lesser.' After all, she's right there."

Faye shrunk down a bit in her seat. "Noelle, please, that isn't necessary."

"I'll tell you what I think…" Marius went on.

Clopin gritted his teeth and clutched the ends of the table. They were lost in squabbling again, exactly what he didn't need tonight. He looked to Gerard to help him get this group back under control. Gerard, however, only looked on with a smile, as if he were watching a grand performance. The rest of the people at the table just looked tired of hearing the same argument again.

Marius was just a moment away from outright calling Noelle a whore when they were all silence by the sound of Jamal slamming his hands on the table. "That's enough!" Jamal, silent until this moment, stood up and glared at Marius and Noelle. "I know you two are better than this. Your fathers would be ashamed of your behavior tonight." Noelle and Marius both sat back down, looking sheepishly in their laps. Jamal turned his eyes back at Clopin. "I'm sorry we get so far off track," Jamal apologized unnecessarily. "Of course, I will take in as many people as possible. It might be a bit cramped, but it'll have to do. In a time like this…I wish I could do more to help."

"It'll be enough. Thank you," Clopin replied, grateful for both the offer and the interruption.

Rayna offered room in her safe house as well. "I've got a pretty spacious store room. I'm afraid it won't be any less dreary than a prison, but at least there's no guards at the door."

After that, the conversation turned back to business, with everyone discussed what room they had available and how many people they thought they could take in. Rayna also volunteered the homes of her six sons, though none of them knew it yet. But she promised her sons would do as they were told. Marius even grudgingly added that he would see if his brothers had room as well. As Clopin listened to the others volunteer to open their homes to his people, he felt the weight on his heart – which had been there since the Feast of Fools – lighten ever so slightly.

[-]

It was close to midnight by the time all of the details were sorted out and everyone left the inn. Clopin was going to go back to the Court with Gerard, but Noelle whispered the magic words "I have wine," in his ear and so he stayed behind. He told Gerard to go on without him. Gerard smirked and raised his eyebrows suggestively, but Clopin simply shook his head and sent him on his way.

Clopin stepped into her office. He slumped into a chair in the corner of the room and put his feet up on a small table. His closed his tired eyes in an attempt to get some measure of rest. He imagined he wasn't going to get much in the coming days.

Noelle stepped into the door frame, her hands behind her back. "I'm afraid I was mistaken. It seems I'm out of wine."

Clopin cracked his eyes open. "You're what?" Noelle smirked and revealed the bottle she was hiding behind her back. Clopin returned with a smirk of his own. "You cruel woman."

In her other hand she held two simple metal cups. She bought them over to the corner where Clopin was sitting. "Feet off," she said. Clopin obliged and she put the bottle and the cups down on the table. Clopin uncorked the wine and poured them each a glass as Noelle dragged her desk chair over to the table.

"Should we toast?" Clopin asked as he picked up his

"To what?" Noelle asked, taking her own cup.

"To…health? To friends? To the fact that you didn't eviscerate Marius tonight?"

"Oh…" Noelle looked shamefully down into her drink. "I'm sorry about that."

Clopin shrugged and took his first unceremonious sip of wine. "He really shouldn't have poked the sleeping Garce."

"It just...it's been eleven years. Can't he let it go?" she brought the cup to her lips and took a drink. "It must be exhausting, carrying a grudge around for so long."

Clopin nodded slowly and continued to drink as they both fell into a comfortable silence.

They finished their first cup and began pouring a second before Noelle spoke up. "What are you thinking?" Noelle asked as she filled Clopin's cup. He responded with a groan. "Is it about what Marius said?" She gave him a concerned look. "About how all of this might end?"

Clopin sighed. "It's not as if it hadn't crossed my mind before tonight, but I'm not going to dwell on it. I'm not giving up when the game has scarcely begun."

"Game?"

"Yes, a game." A bitter grin spread across his face. "City-wide, high-stakes chess. Everyone's a pawn and no one volunteered to play. We can only hope it doesn't end with Frollo throwing the game board into the fire."

"Or the queen."

Silence enveloped them again, though this time it was heavy with very real fears. It was brief, however, as Noelle decided to put a voice to their concerns. "Can I ask, why hasn't Esmeralda left? We've made arrangements before…"

"She won't go," Clopin slammed his cup on the table in frustration. "Some idealistic nonsense about not letting Frollo run her out of town."

"But hiding is somehow better?" Noelle asked, raising an eyebrow.

"According to her it is. I said the same thing to her. She said running would give Frollo what he wants but hiding under his nose is somehow an act of defiance. It's defiance for defiance sake."

Noelle smirked. "Because we'd know nothing about that."

The memories caused a smile to tug at the corners of his lips. It disappeared almost as soon as it came. "I think there's something else. Something she won't admit to. She was orphaned too young to even remember her parents. She lived her whole life in the Court. Paris is all she knows. If she left, she'd be completely alone for the first time. Somehow that scares her more than Frollo."

Noelle tentatively took his hand in hers and looked knowingly into his eyes. "I don't think that scares just her."

Clopin let his fingers curl around hers. "I believe I was…maybe 12 when she started following at my heels. Can you believe there were times when I just wanted to get rid of her? And now…now I'm afraid any time she is out of my sight. Anyway, it's too late now. It's not just the roads that are blocked off. Gerard says the rivers have guards posted as well."

"So that's it then?" Noelle asked, taking another sip of wine. "Frollo's going to sink the ship he's on just to kill some passengers."

"What else can you expect from mad Captain Skinbones?" he said, returning to his drink.

"He really should know better by now to not cross the dread pirate Clopin the Clever."

"Nor Noelle the Fierce, merchant's daughter turned scourge of the seas." They tapped their cups together, both silently agreeing that their playtime personas were worth toasting to. "We've been getting ourselves in and out of danger since we were children."

"Yes," Noelle said, absently rubbing the scar the palm of her right hand. "We have."

"This time will be no different. This madness cannot possibly sustain itself. It can't last forever, nothing can. It…It'll pass…"

"Or he will," she added.

Clopin scoffed, "I'm not so sure about that. Have you noticed him aging at all since we were children?" Noelle giggled. This brought a smile to his face and he continued. "Really, I've had nightmares about it. Generations have passed. The world has carts that move on their own and lamps that don't blow out. But amongst it all, Frollo is still there and he hasn't aged a day. He is going to live forever. Monsters can do that."

"Clopin…" Noelle began with a laugh in her voice. "You used to call him something when we were young. Murro?"

"Mullo," he corrected. "I'm not entirely sure I was wrong to call him that. He doesn't quite fit the physical description, but an undead being who returns to cruelly punish the people they hated…he looks like a corpse at least. Although, he has yet to suck anyone's blood as far as I know."

"Yes, but _only_ as far as you know."

Clopin gave her a weary smile, then glanced down into his empty cup. _Can't really afford more. I need to have my wits about me tonight._ Clopin signed and put his cup back on the table. "I'm afraid I must be going."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Noelle asked. "Gerard said the safest time to travel is first light."

"I can't," he replied, getting up from his chair. "I have to start making arrangements to move people into the safe houses."

"I understand." Noelle got up as well. She tenderly placed her hands on his shoulders. "Please, be careful out there."

"I will," he said. His hands moved gently to the back of her neck. His next instinct was to kiss her, but he knew if he started, he wouldn't want to stop. And now was not the time to rekindle any romances. Before the Feast of Fools he thought it was possible, but now… "I, um, I will let you know when we are ready to move people in here."

"Of course."

"Well then…" he took his hands off of her and stepped away. "Good night Carottes."

Noelle stepped away as well. "Yes, good night Gros Nez."

Clopin took a few unsure steps backward then turned to leave. He glanced over his shoulder and caught a glimpse of her putting the cork back in the wine bottle. Then he finally left the room without another word.

Before, any of the ground floor windows or the back door were all exit options for him. But tonight, he needed something safer and the ground had far too many soldiers for his liking. So, he decided to take his old favorite route. Stepping into Noelle's bedroom was odd, yet familiar, like returning home after a long journey. He'd spent so much time here in his youth, he knew it as if it were his own. And yet, it was strange to enter after he hadn't set foot in here for years. Vaguely, he wondered why she never took the master bedroom after her father died, but he thought he knew the answer.

He crossed the room and stepped onto the window's ledge. He twisted his body to grab the edge of the roof and, using his extensive acrobatic skills, made it to the top of the building without much problem. Looking up to the sky, he quickly thanked God that the buildings in Paris were built so close together. It made leaping from rooftop to rooftop that much easier. Before he began making his way back to the Court, the same instinct that urged him to kiss Noelle told him to pause and take in the view. This time he listened to it. It told him to take time to appreciate the city's beauty now, as her ugly side was about to come out of the shadows.


	6. Past 3(a): The Woods Witch Pt 1

**Past 3(a): The Woods Witch (part 1)**

Clopin and Noelle walked down a woodland path, knocking aside tree branches as they passed them. Clopin would wander off path, jumping over roots and swinging on branches, while Noelle would stay along the path only stopping occasionally to pluck a leaf or inspect a strange plant. They had snuck out to the woods in order to investigate a rumor which Gerard told him. He'd been looking for an excuse to get away from the Court and this was the perfect opportunity.

A few months before, Nana, the elderly storyteller, had died and, for the children, this left a hole in their community. Clopin noticed the children would hover around the area where they used to gather and tell each other butchered versions of Nana's tales. It all started when he corrected a younger child's atrocious retelling and soon enough, he found himself with his own audience of little followers. Truth be told, he did love regaling the younger children with Nana's stories and throwing in a few tales he'd made up himself. But, he soon found that his little following of ankle-biters could be exhausting, endlessly asking him for another story. The worst of them was a little orphan girl named Esmeralda. She made herself his little shadow, constantly following him around and rarely giving him a moment's peace. While he did have a genuine soft spot for the little ones, Esmeralda especially, the fact was that he needed some damned time away from them. And so, that morning, he snagged Noelle and set off on this little adventure. Yet, even on this mini vacation, he couldn't quite set aside his story telling habit.

"Noelle, have I ever told you about the mullo?"

"Mullo? No, why?"

"I was just thinking about them and I thought that maybe Frollo could be one," Clopin answered, pulling on a low tree branch and watching it bounce back into place.

"Well, what is it then?" Noelle asked, stopping her steady gait and turning to face him.

"It's a creature who was once human. Then, they died unnaturally or they didn't get proper burial rites." He put on the dramatics, speaking in a low voice and creeping around a thick tree trunk. "So, they rise from the dead and hunt people they don't like. When a mullo attacks, he strangles his victim to death and drinks their blood." At his last word, he popped out from behind the tree trunk, causing Noelle to back up slightly.

"Are you trying to scare me?" she accused, composing herself. "Because it won't work."

"Just listen." Dramatics dropped, he stepped back onto the path and began speaking in his normal voice. "Frollo hates Gypsies and he tries to hunt them down. He executes people by hanging, which is kind of like strangling. Sure, no one's ever _seen_ him drink blood, but he could always do that when he is alone. The only problem is, he doesn't look how a mullo is supposed to look. Mullos have very long hair and dress all in white. Frollo looks nothing like that. But, then I thought, if mullos kill their victims, how many people actually see one and live? That part of the legend might not be accurate at all."

"But, you just said most people don't see a mullo and live," Noelle pointed out. "Plenty of people see Frollo every day."

"I meant, people don't usually live after the mullo has revealed itself," Clopin explained. "The mullo must have a more typical day form it walks around in. I mean, if you saw some guy with hair to his feet and dressed all in white, you'd probably think he was crazy. So, they must have a more human form they can change into to blend in."

Noelle shrugged. "I guess that makes sense."

"So," Clopin grinned and slid up to her. "Were you scared?"

"No."

"It's okay if you were."

"Well, I wasn't."

"Whatever you say," he said, stepping away.

"Please, Clopin, I'm eleven now. I'm too old to be scared by ghost stories." Noelle turned back toward the path and walked on. Everyone knows dead people can't come back to life. Besides, if everyone who ever had a bad death came back as a mullo, there'd be more mullos than people, and that wouldn't make sense. There wouldn't be enough blood to go around, right?" When he didn't answer, she noticed that her friend hadn't been walking with her. "Clopin?" She looked around, but couldn't see him anywhere. "Clopin?"

Clopin suddenly swung upside-down from a tree, his knees hooked over a branch, and growled at her. Noelle jumped back and let out a yelp. When she saw it was only her friend, she charged up to him and pushed him lightly on his chest. "You jackass."

Clopin only laughed as he swung back and forth by his knees. "I knew it. You were scared."

"I wasn't scared. You startled me. There's a big difference."

"Yeah, yeah…" Clopin mumbled as he flipped down from the tree branch. "Don't worry, if we run into any trouble, I can handle it." He reached for the small scabbard he now wore on his hip and unsheathed his knife.

"Where did you get that?" Noelle asked, staring at the blade.

Clopin held the knife flat in an outstretched palm so that she could get a better look. "My older cousin gave it to me. He said I was old enough now to have one of my own."

Noelle reached out and picked up the knife to get a better look at it. Their hands brushed and he felt something odd, something relatively new flip in the pit of his stomach. This was a miniature version of a strange, new feeling he'd been getting. He'd gotten it around others, but mostly around Noelle, and he liked this feeling. She would occasionally say something or do something that would make him feel good in a way he wasn't used to. This was beginning to happen more often lately. He found himself trying harder to impress her and grab her attention so that he could feel that good feeling again. He suspected she felt it too, because sometimes, usually after he said something clever or made her smile, she would get suddenly flustered and go extra prim as a cover-up.

Noelle gave the knife a few turns in her hand and handed it back to him. "Did he show you how to use it?"

"Not really," he admitted, sliding the knife back into his scabbard. "But any idiot can stab someone. How hard can it be?"

"How far is this woods witch, anyway?" Noelle asked as they both began back down the path again. "How do you know we're going in the right direction?"

"Gerard said we just have to follow this path for about an hour."

"Gerard has seen her?"

"I don't think so. He said he heard it from some guy."

Noelle stopped and gave him a skeptical look. "So he doesn't really know, then?"

"Well, he's usually right. He's been right more often than not lately," Clopin tried to argue, but his efforts only earned him an eyebrow raise. "Look, we'll follow the path for a while longer and if we don't find anything, we can go back and you can yell at Gerard for being a liar, okay?"

She considered this for a moment before relenting. "Yeah, okay."

[-]

They walked down the path for about thirty more minutes before they came to a clearing. In the center of the clearing stood a brown, midsize tent which was in a dilapidated state. A small fire pit in front of it still smoldered, giving off thin wisps of smoke.

"Do you think this is it?" Noelle asked, taking a few cautious steps toward the campsite.

"Yeah, must be," Clopin answered, glancing around for a sign of magic.

"So where's the witch?"

Clopin shrugged. "She can't be too far away."

They saw the front flap on the tent move and the both scrambled to take cover behind a thin bush. A tall, spidery woman stepped out of the tent. Her skin showed signs of age with a few faint wrinkles around her eyes. She wore a dusty tan dress and her mousy brown hair seemed to be fading to gray. She looked around, evidently having heard the two intruders. Her eyes landed on their hiding place and a crooked smile began to form on her lips.

"Ah, children. It's alright, don't be shy. I would certainly enjoy the company." The witch took a few steps toward the bush. "I see you there. Come on out."

Clopin knew their hiding place was feeble at best and staying there would be pointless. The witch didn't seem threatening and, if she was, it would be easier to run if he were out in the open. Deciding it was the best possible course of action, he stepped out.

"Ah there's a good boy," the witch cooed. "How old are you, child?"

"I'm twelve," he answered stiffly.

"Oh, nearly a man, I see. And your friend? Is she going to come out?"

He glanced at Noelle. She crinkled her eyebrows and shook her head. Clopin rolled his eyes. "Sure," he answered. He grabbed Noelle's hand and pulled her up. She pulled her hand away and crossed her arms, glaring at him.

"Oh, what a lovely young lady you are," the witch flattered. Noelle only turned her glare to the witch in response. "Come, come. It's been so long since I've had such pleasant guests." The witch turned and ducked back into her tent.

Clopin made to follow, but Noelle grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?" she hissed.

"In the tent, of course."

"I don't think so. We came out here to see if the witch existed. We weren't supposed to socialize with her."

"I know, this is even better," he said, turning toward her. "Just wait until I tell Gerard…"

"I don't want to tell anyone about this," she cut in. "If people find out we were out bonding with a witch…."

"Come along children, don't keep me waiting." The witch called from inside the tent.

"I'm not going in there," Noelle said, stubbornly planting her feet and crossing her arms.

"Fine, suit yourself," he said with a nonchalant shrug. "Stay out here if you want." He began walking toward the tent, but stopped to whisper in Noelle's ear. "Maybe you'll make friends with some hungry bears."

Clopin went in the tent, but Noelle remained standing defiantly in the clearing. But then, the sound of a snapping twig sparked her childish fear. "Wait…" She burst into the tent and almost immediately collided with Clopin's shoulder.

He turned to her with a mocking grin. "What's wrong? No bears?"

"Shh…"

"So, you've decided to join us after all." The witch's voice caught their attention and they turned in its direction. They saw that the inside of the tent was dark, the only light coming from a single candle on a small table. The witch's face was shrouded with shadows, making her eerie grin look even more menacing. She motioned for them to sit and they both knelt down by the table.

"Are you really a witch?" Noelle asked, the bite of suspicion harshening her voice.

Her grin faltered a moment, but was quickly recovered. "Witch is such an ugly word, but I do possess some supernatural powers that some small-minded people might find threatening."

"So you can do magic?" Clopin asked hopefully.

"Oh, my child, anyone can learn. You just need to be willing to embrace such wonders." The witch moved her loosely balled hand over the small candle on the table. The flame jumped and flashed a bright green before returning to its normal state.

Clopin watched the candle in wonder, but Noelle only looked skeptically at the witch's hands. "Did you just put something in that?" she asked harshly.

The witch's eyes flicked up at her. "You shouldn't question your hostess, little girl, especially not one as powerful as I am."

Clopin shot Noelle an irritated look before turning his attention back to the witch. "Please, can you show me more?"

The witch's lips stretched into a wicked grin, deepening the crow's feet in the corners of her eyes. "I like you, young man. You seem very open to the mystical arts." She held her clasped hands above the table. "Perhaps this will impress your friend." Slowly, she parted them, revealing what appeared to be a small bird. As she moved her fingers, the bird's wings seemed to beat rapidly, but never moved from the space between her hands.

Clopin stared wide-eyed at the seemingly impossible sight before him. Noelle leaned in, trying to get a closer look. He thought she was finally beginning to see the witch's power, until her hand shot out and swiped at the air between the witch's hand and the bird. "There's string," Noelle declared as her fingers caught on something and brought the whole contraption down onto the table near the candle. In the light, Clopin could now see that it was only an illustration of a bird on a stiff, circular piece of paper. He flipped the paper over and saw the same illustration only with the bird's wings raised higher. Pieces of string threaded through holes on both sides once attached the paper to the witch's fingers. "This isn't magic at all," Noelle accused.

The witch looked furiously at Noelle and leaned in close to her. "You, girl, have the most mundane mind I've ever had the displeasure of encountering," she hissed. "You can't possibly comprehend anything which you can't rub your grubby little hands all over. It is a shame some people will always be too dim to understand the transcendent powers which can be unlocked."

Noelle stared insubordinately back into the witch's eyes. She then abruptly pushed herself up and stomped out through the tent flap.

"Noelle…" Clopin called after, though weakly. He got up to leave, but the witch spoke up to stop him.

"Your friend shows no potential for the mystical arts," the witch said and gave a mournful click of her tongue. "I sensed it in her the moment she entered my tent. But you, boy, you seem much more open minded. I believe you might be able to learn."

He gave her a doubtful look. "But, your tricks were fake."

"As I said, your friend cannot possibly comprehend the powers I possess. I do not waste my cosmic energy trying to impress such unworthy eyes."

"So, you _do_ have magic powers?"

The witch did not respond, but instead flicked her wrist in a circular motion and held out her palm for him to see. In it laid a single gold coin. Clopin reached for it, but she closed her fingers and opened them again revealing that the coin was now gone. "I can teach you. Return in one week's time and I'll show you how to unlock the secrets of the universe. In time, you will learn to wield magnificent power."

His imagination ran wild with all of the possibilities magic could give him. He could always stay one step ahead of the guards. He could use tricks to get more food and coins. Maybe, one day, when he was King of the Gypsies… His father would never approve. He didn't trust anyone or anything without multiple examples of undeniable proof. But then, there was no reason his father needed to know. "I…I will…come back, I mean."

The witch's grin returned to her face, this time so wide it almost looked grotesque. "Good, but, leave the girl out of this. Her poor, small mind wouldn't be able to handle what I have to show you."

Clopin hesitantly backed out of the tent. He turned and saw Noelle waiting for him at the edge of the clearing. She turned back toward the path and walked off in a huff. Clopin could only follow.

"Can you believe her?" she pouted. "That old fraud practically called me stupid."

"Well, you were ruining her tricks," he pointed out.

"You're taking her side?"

"You've been rude to her from the beginning," he shouted. "First you wouldn't come out of the bush, then you didn't want to go in her tent, and then you ruined her tricks. Maybe, if you were more open-minded, she would have shown us real magic."

"None of it is real! Her magic is fake! She's a fake!"

"You know what I think? I think you're jealous."

Noelle stopped and whirled around to face him. "Jealous of what? A crazy old hag who lives out in the woods?"

"No, jealous that she liked me better."

She rolled her eyes. "Oh please…"

"She did. After you left, she said I had potential and that I could learn magic too." He puffed out his chest, proudly. "She even told me to come back next week so she could start teaching me."

"You aren't seriously going to come back, are you?"

"Yes, I am."

"But she's a liar and a fake! How can you trust her?"

"She thought you wouldn't understand," he accused. "She said you couldn't comprehend it. She didn't use real magic because you were unworthy to see it."

"And you are?" she sneered.

"I must be, since she is going to teach me."

Noelle turned away from him and marched down the path. "Well, fine! I hope you have a great time learning how to be a fake! I hope you become the biggest fraud in the whole world!"

"You won't be saying that when I'm a powerful wizard!" he called after her.

"We'll just see about that!" she tossed over her shoulder.

"Yes, we will!"

Clopin started down the path as well. Noelle sent an angry glance over her shoulder and quickened her steps. Clopin sped up as well. "Ugh, stop following me!" Noelle growled.

"We have to go down the same path to get home!"

"Fine, then don't talk to me!"

"Fine, I don't want to talk to you anyway!"

They walked in stony silence all the way back to the city and parted ways without saying another word to each other.

[-]

The week came and went with Clopin and Noelle saying barely more than two words to each other. In the beginning of the week, they might scowl at each other if they passed on the street, but didn't interact much more than that. Though, in the last few days, Clopin began to notice her softening toward him. He would catch her giving him worried looks, but then switching back to a cold expression once she realized he'd seen. He thought that, maybe, when he got back that day after seeing the witch, he might go to see her. He thought he'd show her something learned and show her it was real.

He came to the bridge by the miller's cottage and saw that Noelle was standing there, waiting for him. She stood in the center of the bridge, a beacon of color against the gray stones and overcast sky. As he got closer, he could see her crossed arms and the stern look on her face. When he saw this, all thoughts of mending fences disappeared.

"Came to apologize?" he said haughtily. He attempted to brush past her, but she stepped in his way.

"Are you going back?"

"So what if I am?" He tried to sidestep her again, but again she blocked him.

"This is a bad idea."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion." Another sidestep, and another block.

"You're going to get in trouble, like some really serious trouble."

"Are you a seer now?" he scoffed.

She was not amused. "You can't go."

"I don't need your permission." He tried again to go around her.

She blocked again. "I don't want you to go."

"Well…too bad." He made a dash for the right side of the bridge, but she followed his moves, barring his path. He ran to the left and she thwarted him again. They went on like this in a mad dance, with him attempting to bolt around her and her matching his every move. "Get out of my way!" he cried in frustration.

"No!"

"Fine!" Finished with this game, he picked her, despite her protests, and spun her around so they now stood on their opposite sides. He put her down and she pushed him away.

"This is stupid," she groaned. "Please, come back with me."

"Stupid?" he exclaimed. "You think I'm stupid?"

"No, I think this whole magic business is stupid."

"Well, maybe it's not stupid to me," he said, turning away from her. "Maybe it's the only way to…"

"The only way to what?" she asked, the defiant edge now gone from her voice. "Why is this so important to you?"

He sighed and kicked at a small stone. "You won't understand."

"Try me."

He hesitated. He'd never put a voice to these fears before, not to her or anyone. He was supposed to be strong. He was taught to be strong. "I'm going to lead the Court someday. My father's been training me. I'm supposed to protect everybody but, with Frollo and the guards…" He stopped. Imagining that particular failure already brought on too many nightmares. "My father can do it. He's a great leader, they all say so. But me, I'm just one kid. I can't do it alone. But, maybe if I had magic…" He couldn't go on. The weight of his future was already crushing him. He played the jester a lot to keep these worried at bay. The laughter from himself and his friends was like a light chasing away the darkness. That was how he imagined magic: beams of light pushing back Frollo's thugs. Now, after letting out his fears, he felt he released the darkness as well.

Noelle's hand touched his shoulder and he could see a glimmer of light again. "This is a mistake," she whispered gently. "That witch can't help you."

With her words, that light was extinguished. He shrugged her off. "What do you know?"

"I _don't_ know. I think… I think she's up to something. You shouldn't trust her." She was pleading now, desperate for him to listen. "I…I'm scared she's going to hurt you, somehow."

He finally turned back to her, his mood softening. "Oh, I see. You're scared the big, bad witch is going to take your friend away," he condescended, holding her shoulders. For some reason, she didn't seem impressed with his revelation. "There's nothing to be scared of. I'll be back in a few hours and it'll be alright. You'll see."

She looked down, disappointed. "I'm not going to talk you out of it, am I?"

He shook his head, smiling. _Finally, she understands._ "This is my chance, Noelle."

"Then…you leave me no choice." Her head snapped back up, and she looked sternly into his eyes. "If you don't come back with me, I'm going to tell your father."

The smile was wiped from his face. Appalled, he pushed her away. "What?"

Undeterred, she drew herself up. "I'll show him where the witch's tent is, and we'll take you back home."

"You're going to tell my father?" he asked, disgusted.

She gave him a curt nod. "If I need to."

"I…have never…would never…" He felt the anger rising again. It was something of an unspoken rule that they never told their fathers what trouble they got into and she was threatening to break this rule. She knew his father would never approve of this and she was using that against him. _That manipulative little…_ "We don't tell on each other. That's not how this works. Are you going to go running to my father anytime I do something you don't like? Why don't you just go running to Frollo while you're at it? You might as well become one of his little spies."

Noelle stared at him, dumbfounded. "How could you say that?"

Some part of him knew he'd regret these words, but at the moment he didn't care. His temper was flaring now, far beyond his control. "If you go running to my father, I'll never trust you again!"

"I'm just trying to…"

"To what? Help? I don't need your help. Just…just go home. Get out of here!" She stood firm, looking up at him, giving him the same defiant expression. Though, he could still see the hurt in her eyes. This only made him angrier. "Fine, stand there all day if you want. See if I care." He stormed off, abandoning her and her wounded gaze on that bridge.

[-]

Noelle stood on that bridge long after he ran out of sight, debating her next move. A small part of her was tempted to walk away and leave him to his fate. He'd see that she was right far too late and he'd be sorry he didn't listen to her. But, she knew she could never do that. If he never returned and she knew she could have done something to help, she wouldn't be able to live with herself.

She could follow through with her threat and get his father. He would drag Clopin back kicking and screaming if he had to. Adrien would punish him severely and she probably wouldn't be able to see him for weeks, but at least she'd know he was safe. But then, she'd loose him anyway. It would end their friendship and she was not willing to give that up either.

No, she couldn't do either of those things. There was only one option left. Filled with resolve, she made her way across the bridge. She remembered what path to take when she got to the woods. If Clopin was going back to the witch, she was too. She managed to get him away from there once and she could do it again.

As Noelle came closer to the witch's clearing, she could hear voices. One she recognized as the witch, but the other two were unfamiliar and clearly belonged to grown men. She veered off of the path, traveling through the brush so as not to be seen. She hid herself behind a thick tree trunk on the edge of the clearing and peak out. The witch was there and was joined by two men as Noelle predicted. One man was tall and muscular with a handsome face and dark brown hair. The other was short and stout, with pink skin and sandy blonde hair. The witch seemed to be angry at the two men.

"I thought you'd be here sooner," growled the witch. "I had to stall him all afternoon."

"Relax, I said we'd get here when we got here," the tall man said, brushing off the witch's scolding. "Was a skinny gypsy boy really the best you could do? Is he attractive at least?"

"He's got a nose on him, but he's rather good looking," she said thoughtfully. "He'll be worth something."

"I know of this rich type in Troyes, a moneylender I think," the short man put in. "He has a taste for young boys and he pays well for them no matter what they look like."

"What does he do with them once they get older?" the woman asked.

The short man shrugged, indifferent to the answer. "I don't know. He gets rid of them somehow. It's none of my business. The important thing is he pays in gold."

"Well, that settles that" the tall man said, clasping his hands together with a loud clap. "Where is the boy now?"

"I sent him out to gather firewood," the woman answered. "He should be back soon."

The tall man nodded. "Then we should probably hide and jump him when he gets here. Don't want to give him the chance to run."

"I tied the horses up far away," the short main said. "They shouldn't tip him off."

Noelle's temper was about to explode. This was Clopin they were talking about; funny, clever, charming Clopin. They were planning to take him away to be used as some rich man's plaything. He was her friend, her best friend. They didn't knew him. They had no idea how smart he was, how much fun he created, or how thoughtful he could be. They didn't know how good he made her feel. They wanted to throw this wonderful person away and she wasn't about to let that happen. She saw red and charged at the woman. She threw herself at the woman's back and they both fell to the ground. "You bitch! You ugly old hag! I knew you were going to hurt him!" Noelle yelled as she pounded her fists into the woman's back.

The tall man let out an amused laugh. "Who is this?"

"…et er off ee…" the woman mumbled as Noelle pushed her head into the dirt.

Still laughing, the tall man plucked Noelle off of the woman and set her back on her feet. "You were holding out on us," he said as he clutched Noelle by the arm.

The woman grumbled and picked herself up off of the ground. "That's the girl who was with him," she explained as she dusted herself off. "I didn't think she'd come back, though. I thought she was too much trouble anyway."

"Let me go!" Noelle screamed, swinging her free fist at him.

"That's enough of that…" he said, grabbing her wrist. "Come here, let's have a look at you." He took both of her wrists in one hand grabbed her face with the other. He leaned down for a closer look. His swampy green eyes stared intensely into her ice blue ones. "My god, look at these eyes." He twisted her head so that she faced the short man. "How would you like to fuck a girl with these eyes?"

The short man walked up to her and leaned in, trying to see what his partner was talking about. "Eh, too scrawny for my taste," he said, eyeing her. "Let me know when she starts growing tits."

"I'll never understand why any man would want a little twig like that when they could have a real woman," the former-witch sighed as she sat on a log near the fire pit.

"Some like them this young, girls and boys. They'll pay some shady brothel good money for the experience." The tall man took his hand off of her face and grabbed her by the arms again. "And the brothels pay good money to whoever can get these 'little twigs' through the back door."

The short man picked up her long braid and inspected it in his hands. "Hair's a nice color, too. Along with those eyes, she'll fetch a high price, I think."

Noelle gripped the tall man's wrists and tried desperately to pull away. "No! No! I won't!"

"What's wrong, girl?" the tall man snickered. "Don't think you're worth much?"

"Let me go!" she yelled, pulling more frantically. "I'm not going with you!"

"We'll see about that, girl." He looked at the short man and nodded toward the back of the clearing. "Go get the rope. It's in my saddle bag."

"Let! Me! Go!" she kicked the tall man hard in the shin with each word.

The tall man's face twisted with rage. "Stop that!" He let go of one of her arms just long enough to slap her backhanded across the face. It sent her reeling. The only thing keeping her from falling to the ground was the man's grip still on one of her arms. He yanked her back up and held her tight with both hands. "I can make this much more painful for you if I want. You should be less worried about getting away and more worried about pleasing me."

"Hey!" A new voice sounded. They all turned to see Clopin standing at the edge of the clearing, a bundle of sticks in his arms. He glared furiously at the tall man holding Noelle. "What is this?"

"Clopin!" Noelle cried, struggling even harder now to break free. "They're kidnappers!"

Clopin's expression darkened. He reached into his bundle and began throwing sticks at the man. Some hit the man, but still he held on. "Leave! Her! Alone!" Clopin shouted which each throw.

Luckily, one stick broke on the man's face and a small branch scratched his eye. He groaned in pain and his hands instinctively flew to his face. Noelle took off, dodging the woman's hands as she ran toward her friend. Clopin stood at the edge of the clearing, one hand outstretched and his legs preparing to run. The moment their hands touched, they both grasped on tight and tore down the path.

"Get them!" they heard the tall man shout, but neither dared to look back.

They veered off of the path and tried to run though the thickest parts of the forest with the most places to hide. Clopin in the front, he led them through various twist and turns. They squeezed through small spaces and easily ducked low branches which would slow down any adult. Through it all, they still kept their hands tightly clasped together.

The kidnappers shouted threats at them as they widened the gap between them and their pursuers. "The longer you run, the worse it'll be for you." They could hear the voices of the kidnappers growing more distant as they ran deeper into the woods. Noelle allowed herself a quick glance back and she could see the kidnappers struggling to make it through the brush.

"Are they close?" Clopin asked, not looking back.

"Falling behind," Noelle answered.

"Good. Let me know when you can't see them."

As they ran, Noelle took occasionally glances back. She could see the kidnappers growing smaller as she and Clopin widened their lead. Eventually, she could see that only the short man was directly following them. She told Clopin that she thought they split up and he responded with a nod. Soon, she could see no one when she glanced back. They kept going until they found a thick bush to hide in. They dove underneath it and lay on their stomachs in the dirt.

"If we hide here, maybe they'll pass us," Clopin whispered between gasps. Noelle did not respond, but focused on catching her breath. "What are you doing out here?"

"I knew that witch was dangerous," she breathed, still panting. "So, I followed you."

"And, the two men?"

"I don't know. They were already there when I got there. They want to sell us."

"Sell us?" he gasped.

She nodded. "You to a rich man and me to a brothel."

"What rich man?"

Noelle gulped. "They said he liked young boys."

He felt a cold chill wash over his body as he began to understand the kind of danger they were in. He slipped his hand over to Noelle's and she took it, lacing her fingers through his. They looked into each other's eyes, both trying to convey comfort through their fear.

Suddenly, Noelle let out a shriek as she was dragged backward out of the bush. "Noelle!" Her hand was ripped from his and he scrambled to get ahold of it again. He leapt for her outstretched arm, grasping it with both hands, but his struggle lead him out of the bush. He looked up to see that the woman was the one who pulled out Noelle. The woman had one boney arm wrapped around Noelle's throat, too tight for her to speak. Noelle clawed at the woman's arm with her free hand while Clopin kept a firm grip on the other. "Let go of her," he yelled as he pulled on Noelle's arm. He got to his feet so that he could pull harder.

"Now…now…" she warned, patting Noelle's head in a sick parody of affection. "If you don't want your friend to get hurt, you'll come quietly."

Clopin held on tighter "No! Let her go!"

Noelle managed to wriggle her chin under the woman's arm and bit into it. The woman groaned in pain. "You animal," the woman growled, pulling on Noelle's head up by her hair.

Clopin used this distraction as an opportunity. He took one hand off of Noelle's arm and unsheathed his knife. He clutched it in his hand, looking for an open space to strike, but the woman's body was almost entirely covered by Noelle's. Making the only move he could think of, he put the hilt of the knife in Noelle's hand and let go.

Noelle twisted in the woman's arms and plunged the knife into the side of the woman's stomach. Blood gushed over her hand as she held on to the hilt. She tried to pull the knife out, but it seemed to be stuck on something and she thought she could feel it scraping against bone.

The woman howled in pain. Her hands instinctively flew to her wound. Her fingers wrapped around the knife's hilt and she pulled with Noelle. With their combined force, the knife tore free, taking a grotesque chunk of flesh with it.

Noelle backed up a few steps as the woman fell to her knees. She could only watch in shock and horror as blood poured out of the woman's stomach. "You evil brat!" the woman tried to scream, though her mouth was beginning to fill with blood. "Look what you've done to me."

Clopin grabbed onto Noelle's arm and tugged gently, but she stood frozen to her spot. "Noelle come on," he begged.

Noelle stared unblinking at the woman. "What did I do?" she breathed, barely audible.

Clopin pulled harder this time. "Noelle, we have to go."

She turned to him, her eyes still wide with horror. She took a few steps and he dragged her into a run. She turned her head for one last look at the woman before they both disappeared into the forest.


	7. Past 3(b): The Woods Witch Pt 2

Longer chapter than usual. Hope you enjoy it.

* * *

 **Past 3(b): The Woods Witch Pt 2**

Rousse heard the bell clang and the front door slam shut. He looked up from his ledgers to see his teenage son trying to quickly smooth his mussed hair. "Where have you been all day?" he demanded. "You were supposed to be here. I was going to teach you how to properly balance the budget. Did you remember?"

"I'm sorry father," Pascal said sheepishly. "I guess I lost track of time."

"Lost track of time? You were supposed to be here hours ago. It's nearly supper."

"I said I was sorry."

At this point, a few curious patrons in the common room looked up watch the scolding, but Rousse paid them no mind. "Well, while you were out, did you at least see where your sister went? She said she was meeting her friend this morning and I haven't seen her since."

"No, sorry. I'm sure she'll be back soon. She's normally on time."

"Normally, I remind her when to be back at her lesson, but since I was supposed to be teaching you all day, I told her we'd skip it."

"Relax, father. It's not supper time yet. She's still got a few more minutes," Pascal reasoned. "Noelle's a smart girl. She'll remember."

Rousse crossed the room and looked out the window into the street. He was hoping to see his daughter running toward the inn, trying to make it home on time. He saw a few people still out milling around, but not her. "Yes, you're probably right…" he conceded, turning away from the window. It was true that she still had some time before she was officially late, but he couldn't quiet the nagging feeling that something was wrong.

[-]

Their new hiding place was much more effective, Clopin thought. After Noelle stabbed the woman, they'd heard the other two coming. There wasn't enough time to run, so the climbed a tree nearby. They both sat on thick branches on either side of the tree, hugging the trunk for support. From their perch, they could see the woman still hunched over, holding her wound and cursing Noelle. He leaned out just enough so that he could see his friend. She was still in shock, from what he could tell. Her expression was blank with the exception of her wide, horror-stricken eyes.

Clopin was shocked as well. When he handed her the knife, he wasn't entirely sure what she'd do. He thought maybe she'd slice the woman's arm or give her a quick jab, just fast enough to get away. At the very least, he didn't expect so much blood. Noelle's sleeve was soaked and she had splatter on her skirt from when the knife was pulled out. And the way the blood started coming out of the woman's mouth… He didn't want to think about it anymore.

The two men came into view. Both came running from different directions. They stopped when they saw the woman crumpled on the ground.

"Well, what happened here?" the tall man asked with a low chuckle. "Those kids get the better of you?"

The short man was less amused. "You let them get away, didn't you?"

"You bastards," the woman said, blood dribbling out of her mouth. "Help me."

The tall man crouched down to get a better look at the wound. He tsked and shook his head. "There's no helping that, I'm afraid." He stepped behind her and pulled her head back.

"What are you…?"

The man shushed her. "Don't worry." He pulled out his knife and put it against her neck. "This will be quicker." He slid the knife slowly across her throat and dropped the body face-first into the dirt. There were a few minutes of a sickening gargling noise and then nothing.

"Well, I guess that's one less cut, huh?" the short man said glibly.

The tall man crouched down and wiped his knife clean on the back of the woman's dress. "It was the boy. He had a knife. I saw it."

"You know, I'm starting to think these kids are more trouble than they're worth."

The tall man stood up suddenly. "You want to let them go? Let them go back to the city and tell everyone we're out here? We'll have a mob after us."

"No, I was just thinking we should kill them after we catch them. Those two are too risky to travel with."

"And have all of this be for nothing?" The tall man pointed his knife accusingly at the short man.

The short man threw up his hands defensively. "I just don't want to have to be worried about some kid killing me in my sleep."

"We'll take his knife away. We'll keep them tied up," the tall man dismissed . "They'll be helpless and we won't have a thing to worry about."

The short man still looked skeptical. "What about when we go through a town? We've never had two at the same time before and these kids are slippery. That's more to keep track of and now there's less of us. What if one of them distracts us while the other one runs or tries to get help?"

"So? We just tell them if one tries to run or tell someone, we'll kill the other one. Simple."

"But then we'd lose all of our profits."

"We won't really do it. Look, say the boy runs. We keep the girl. When we catch him, we punish her in front of him. We can even force him to punish her for us if we want, depending on how troublesome he is. Then we say we're giving him another chance and punish him too." The tall man explained all of this plainly, as if her were giving mundane instructions.

"Alright, but what about a plan for catching them now?"

The tall man shielded his eyes with his hand and looked up at the sky. "It'll be dark soon. They'll have to get back on the path if they want to find their way home again. We'll run ahead and hide along the path. When they come by, we'll jump them."

"You know, once we catch them, I think a little punishment is in order," the short man said as a wicked smile began to form on his lips.

"Don't worry," the tall man replied with an evil grin of his own. "I've got something in mind."

"Like what?" the short man asked as they began to walk out of sight.

"Well, the boy likes to play with knives. I'll let him get a taste of mine."

"Just don't get carried away. They won't be worth as much if they're covered in scars."

Their voices drifted off. Up in the tree, Clopin could feel hot, angry tears gathering in his eyes. _Like hell they will. Catch me? Take my knife? Tie me up? Like hell._ He roughly wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and looked over at Noelle. She still clung to the tree. Her eyes were less wide, but she wore the same vacant expression. He suddenly felt sad for his friend, but he remembered what the kidnappers said, and his anger overtook him again. "They could never force me," he hissed. "I'll never hurt you. Never, never." Noelle acknowledged his words with a nod, but made no reply. "Come on," Clopin said, beginning to climb down. Noelle followed him, still not making a sound.

[-]

Rousse looked out the window again, restless. Supper came and went and she still wasn't home. Pascal rounded up a few of his friends and went off looking for her. Now, the sun was setting and there was no sign of her. He wanted to tear the city apart brick-by-brick until she was found, but he needed someone to be at the inn if she did come back. He knew Pascal and his friends could cover more ground, so he stayed. A few of his own friends caught wind of what was going on, so they joined the search as well. Rousse, however, was going stir-crazy waiting for news.

He checked the window one last time and went into his office. When he entered, he saw Adrien leaning against the wall next to the open window.

"So, I hear Noelle is missing, too. I ran into your son and his friends. Said they were looking for her."

Rousse looked down solemnly. "Yes, I sent them out when she didn't come home for supper. Jamal and my brother-in-law are out searching as well. I stayed here in case she did come back." A realization came to him and he looked up at his friend. "Wait, you said 'too'. Is Clopin…?"

"Can't find him anywhere." Adrien pushed himself off of the wall and began pacing. "No one's seen him all day. Clopin's been known to disappear, making some mischief, but never this long."

"Same with Noelle. Last I saw her she said she was meeting your son."

"So, they must be together at least."

"I hope." Rousse sat down at his desk and folded his hands in front of his face. He stared blankly at the candle on his desk as he thought. "Something's wrong. Noelle is always back before dark."

Adrien stopped his pacing and leaned on the edge of the desk. "Someone always sees Clopin at some point and tells me what he's been up to. Nothing today. His mother is sick with worry."

"How is Talia?"

"She'd been feeling faint, so I told her I'd take care of it. I promised her I'd bring her home. I sent out Solomon and some of the others. Gerard was with Pascal. I told them to keep an eye out for Clopin."

"Did any of them have any idea where they could be?"

"No, but I was hoping your daughter would. I knew if he was here, you wouldn't have known or else you would have sent him home. I thought maybe he got into some trouble and she was helping him hide from me."

Rousse let out a bitter chuckle. "If only it were something as childish as that."

"You think they're in real danger?"

"Don't you?"

Adrien nodded gravely. "They seem to have vanished. That's not a good sign."

"I can only hope we're wrong."

"I know you, Rousse," Adrien said after a silence. "You think they're dead in a ditch somewhere."

Rousse's eyes slid to the corner of his desk and landed on a small, wooden box. He opened it and took out its contents: a brass rose on a delicate chain. The necklace once belonged to his late wife. He didn't need to explain. Adrien knew what it was. He gently ran his thumb along the rose's petals as he spoke. "My children are all I have left of Joanna. My wife died bringing Noelle into this world. I can't lose her as well."

"She would certainly have your head for it."

Rousse would never forget the night Noelle was born. It was Christmas Eve. He was restless then as well. They lost two other babies before that; lost before they even had the chance to be born. They were so close this time and he was afraid to be too optimistic. The midwife handed him his daughter and told him his wife didn't have much time. She lived long enough to say goodbye to Pascal and ask Rousse to always keep their children safe and happy. He managed to pull himself together long enough to comfort his son and put the boy to bed. After that, he was beside himself with grief. He wouldn't let anyone else hold his infant daughter and refused to listen to any talk about finding a permanent milk nurse. It was Adrien who was finally able to talk some sense into him. That was the way it always was with them. When one was beginning to lose their heads, the other would be there to help them think rationally again.

"If Joanna were here, she'd break down every door in Paris until they were found," Rousse said closing his fist around the necklace. "We must find them."

Adrien nodded gravely. "And if they can't be found?"

It was a horrible thing to consider, but they had no delusions about the dangers of the world. Even a child could fall victim to its cruelties. Rousse opened his fist again and looked again at the rose sitting quietly in his palm. "Then, I'm sure Joanna is taking good care of them."

[-]

Clopin sat on the edge of the riverbank and let the waters wash the blood off of his knife. He swished it around and, once it was clean, he dried it on the end of his tunic. Next to him, Noelle washed the blood off of her hands. She briefly tried to wash her sleeve and skirt, but it was no use. The water smeared the blood but it did not wash away. Her clothes were a lost cause. The blood had already soaked through and stained the fabric. Once she gave up, she knelt back and stared numbly at the river.

"Noelle?" Clopin asked, inching toward her. "Are you alright?"

"I killed her," she whispered, staring straight ahead.

"No, that man killed her. We saw it."

Noelle shook her head. "He wouldn't have done that if I hadn't stabbed her. She might have died anyway. I killed her."

"She was one of them," he argued. "You heard what they said. They were going to sell us to be used by some old perverts."

"And you might have been killed in a few years." She sat back on the grass and hugged her knees to her chest. "They said the rich man gets rid of the boys when they get older."

"You see? You had to do it."

"It doesn't matter. I killed her," her eyes filled with tears. "It's the worst sin. I'm going to hell."

He wracked his brain for something that would convince her otherwise. Hell, he knew, was for evil people. It was for people like Frollo or the kidnappers they escaped. She didn't belong there. To his mind, she was in the right. He knew by then that his father had killed before to protect the Court and he saw no difference in Noelle's actions. "Soldiers go to war. They kill each other all the time. No one says they're going to hell."

"I'm not a soldier. I'm just a kid. I'm not supposed to kill. Oh God, I'm a killer now." She covered her face with her hands.

"Noelle…"

"I'm a killer. I'm going to be arrested, and then hung. I'm going to hell and… Papa…" The tears spilled over and she buried her face in her knees. "I'm not his _ange_ , I'm a killer. Papa won't love me anymore."

He watched her cry, helpless to stop it. It was strange, he hadn't seen her cry in years. Crying was for babies, according to her. He was usually good at cheering people up, but he didn't think a joke or a silly trick was going to help now. She needed a way to wash her dress, or hide the blood, or… He had an idea. He placed his hand on his knife. _I'll never hurt you. Never, never._ He'd said these words not even an hour ago, yet here he was. _But, this is different,_ he argued to himself. _This will help, not hurt._

He took out his knife and reached toward her. "Give me your hand."

She looked up, startled. "Why?" she asked as she held her hand close to her chest.

"I have an idea. I just need you to trust me."

Slowly, she held her right hand out toward his. He gently took her hand and flipped it so that the palm faced upwards. "This'll hurt a bit," he said as he pointed the tip of the knife at the soft flesh at the bottom of her hand. He hesitated a moment, then quickly drew a diagonal line across her palm.

She snatched her hand back and clutched it with the other. "Why did you do that?"

"We'll tell your father that _they_ cut you," he explained as he rinsed his knife off in the river. "The blood on the dress is from your cut. No one will ever know."

She held her hand up for a moment. The blood dripped down her wrist into her sleeve, mixing with the blood already soaked there. He eyes filled with tears again and she flung herself at Clopin, wrapping her arms around him. "Thank you, thank you, thank you…" she whispered into his shoulder.

"You're welcome?" He awkwardly patted her on the back. "Come on, it's getting dark. We need to get home. But the path…"

"We can follow the river home," Noelle answered, her face still buried in Clopin's shoulder.

"Ah, there's my clever friend, talking sense again." He took her by the shoulders and held her back. She used her uninjured hand to wipe her tears away, smiling now in spite of herself. They both got up and began following the river back to the city.

[-]

Pascal entered the inn through the front door, his friends behind him. "Are they back?" he asked, though this was an unnecessary question. The other search parties were scattered around the common room, all having come back empty handed. His own group began dispersing and taking the empty seats at the tables.

"I take it you didn't find them," Rousse said, barely looking up at them.

Pascal looked down sadly. "No, father."

"We must have covered the entire city by now." Adrien slammed his fist on the table. "Where could they be?"

The room erupted in a hushed conversation as everyone threw out suggestions as to where to look next. The buzz of their theorizing, though quiet as to not wake the guests, was such that no one heard the back door of the inn open. Nor did they hear the shuffling footsteps of Clopin and Noelle as they made their way through the kitchen. Once they stepped into the common room, the two people closest to them immediately went silent and stared at them. This set off a chain reaction as everyone gradually stopped and noticed that the missing children had returned. It finally reached their fathers who looked both amazed and relieved that they were truly seeing their children again.

They knew they were a sight, both covered in dirt and scratches from their chase through the forest. Noelle's braid was barely intact and Clopin still had some small twigs in his hair. The two children, knowing that they were the cause of this meeting, looked down at their feet, both exhausted and ashamed of the commotion they caused. "Papa…" Noelle chirped, getting the nerve to look up at her father.

Rousse ran to them and caught them both up in a hug. Adrien, not being an outwardly affectionate man, simply patted Clopin's back and raked his fingers once through Noelle's hair.

"Is this blood?" Rousse asked, inspecting his daughter. "And your hand…what's happened to you?"

Noelle and Clopin's eyes locked for a moment. Their minds went blank. There was so much to tell and they were unsure of where to begin. Noelle spoke up first.

"We were in the woods, out past the miller's cottage," she began.

Clopin joined in. "Gerard told me about a witch who lived out there. We went to see if she was real and…"

"And you got lost?" Adrien asked furiously. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused?"

"There were kidnappers!" Noelle cut in.

Adrien was taken aback. "What?"

"One of them hit her," Clopin added. "I saw him do it."

"They wanted to sell us to a brothel."

"Or a rich man."

"Clopin threw sticks and we got away."

"But they cut her hand. Look."

Rousse waved a hand to stop them. "Wait, slow down. Start again from the beginning. What's this about a witch and a brothel?"

They took turns telling the story. Beforehand, they agreed not to mention that this was their second time venturing to the witch's lair. They also left out that they both initially went into the woods alone. They were already worried about getting into trouble with their fathers for going into the woods in the first place and they wanted to save themselves any extra punishment. Their fathers looked unsure as to what to believe, until Noelle told them how she overheard the kidnappers' plans. She told them nearly word-for-word what they said, and their fathers' faces hardened with resolve. They tried to keep close to the truth, except for the part where Noelle stabbed the woman. Instead, they said the woman pulled them out of the bush and cut her as punishment for running, but they got away again. They also told them about hiding in the tree and watching the tall man kill the woman, though they said he did it in an argument about her letting them get away. By the time they finished, Rousse began washing and bandaging Noelle's cut.

"Is this all true, children?" Rousse asked as he tied the bandages around Noelle's hand.

Noelle nodded in reply. "Yes, I'm sorry Papa. We should have never gone into the woods."

"You're safe now, _ange_. That is what's most important." He brushed the hair off of her face and kissed her forehead. He then looked up at his son across the room. "Pascal, take them to the kitchen and get them something to eat." Pascal nodded and gently ushered the two children out of the room.

Adrien looked up and addressed the other gypsies in the room. "Someone go back to the court and tell my wife what's happened, and begin by telling her he is safe. Gerard, you stay and take my son home once he's eaten. I have things to discuss here."

Gerard got up from the table he was sitting at and approached him. "Adrien, I'm so sorry. I thought it was just a rumor. I didn't think anyone was actually out there. I…"

Adrien simply put up a hand, silencing Gerard's rambling apology. "We'll talk about it later. The rest of you can go. We're done here."

The small group of searchers dispersed and Adrien and Rousse stepped into the office. They were closely followed by the children's respective uncles: Solomon, Adrien's younger brother, and Elliot, Rousse's brother-in-law.

"We're not all done here," Elliot said, closing the door behind him. "Can we be sure their story is true?"

Rousse crossed his arms and looked away grimly. "I believe them. The things Noelle overheard those monsters say… I don't know where else she would have gotten them."

Adrien nodded gravely in agreement. "My son will often tell some fantastical story to get himself out of trouble, but not like this. He doesn't mess around with subjects this serious."

"Then what are we going to do about this?" Elliot asked. "Those people are still out there."

Adrien sat down in Rousse's desk chair. "What do you propose we do?"

"I'll get them," Solomon declared. "I'll round up some men. We'll go into those woods and drag those sick bastards out dead or alive. They aren't going to attack my family and get away with it."

Adrien simply frowned. "No, Solomon."

"You want me to do nothing? They had my nephew!"

"They had my son!" Adrien slammed his hands on the table and leaned in toward Solomon. "I want to protect my people, _all_ of my people. I will not let you risk your life for this."

"What risk?" Solomon dismissed. "Men who hurt children are not men at all. They will be no match for us."

"It is not the fight I am worried about. The real danger starts if you get caught. If someone were to see you…"

"They are scum who sell children to pleasure old men. No one could possibly blame us."

"Do you think Frollo will believe that? All he'll see is a group of gypsies killing a few Frenchmen. I will not let you hang for this."

"Well, we can't do nothing!" Elliot jumped in. "They already got their hands on my niece and I have three daughters of my own to worry about. Something must be done."

Adrien drummed his fingers thoughtfully on the desk. "Yes, you would be worried. You and every other parent in the city. There are kidnappers in the woods, they nearly got your niece, and you'll demand something be done about it. You and Rousse will go to the guards. Make a scene. Make sure plenty of other people know what happened to Noelle. The story will spread like wildfire. Every parent in the city will demand action and Frollo will have no choice but to take it."

"Frollo?" Solomon spat. "You trust him now?"

"No, Frollo only knows these men are evil because the law tells him so. But with everyone in the city calling for the capture of these villains, he will be forced to act." Adrien got up from the desk and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Let him work for us for a change.

"Frollo will want to question witnesses." Rousse pointed out.

Adrien nodded. "We'll have Noelle talk to him."

"Noelle? But…"

"I know it is a lot to ask a child to face a monster," Adrien began grimly. "But she's done it once already today. I have faith she'll be able to do it again."

Rousse, knowing there was no way to get around it, agreed. "She'll have to tell a version of the story which will appeal to Frollo. And what about your son? How does he fit into all of this?"

Adrien sighed. "I afraid he'll have to be left out. It would make no sense to Frollo why my son would be running around with your daughter. We can't include him in the story without raising suspicion."

"But the men could talk. They could tell Frollo about the gypsy boy who was with her."

"We'll have to say they were lured separately then, and escaped together."

"We'll keep it as close to the truth as possible, so there's little chance of the story being contradicted. We should also leave out the part about looking for a witch. He'll just accuse them of practicing witchcraft."

Together, the four men concocted a story. Once they settled on a version which would be acceptable to tell Frollo, they stepped out of the office and saw the children waiting for them in the common room. All four sat at one table. Pascal and Gerard sat on one side and mumbled tiredly to each other while Clopin and Noelle sat on the other side, both half asleep and staring blankly off into space. They all looked up when they noticed the men coming back into the room.

"Clopin, Gerard is taking you home," Adrien said, addressing his son. "I'll be back later tonight. Go straight to your mother when you get there. She'll want to see you."

Clopin only stood up and nodded. "Yes, Papa."

Adrien nodded back and turned his attention to Noelle. "Noelle, you come here. We need to talk to you."

She shot Clopin a terrified look before responding. "Am I in trouble?"

Rousse stepped closer to Noelle and said in a more comforting voice, "No, _ange_ , we just need you to do something to help us catch those men who hurt you."

"Okay," she answered quietly.

Gerard got up and began moving toward the back door. "Come on, Clopin."

Clopin reached out and squeezed Noelle's hand. "Bye," he said softly.

"Bye," Noelle squeezed his hand back and let him walk away.

[-]

From the moment Clopin stepped back into the Court, he could feel people staring at him. So many curious people wanting to know where he'd been. People whispered as he passed, then suddenly stop once they realized he was near. He didn't hear exactly what they were saying. He was in an exhausted daze and could hardly muster up the ability to care. One voice, his mother's, was the only one who caught his attention.

"Is it Clopin?" she asked as she pushed through the crowd. "Is he back?" She caught sight of him and her eyes filled with tears. She ran to him and hugged him tight. "Oh my sweet boy."

He wrapped his arms around her as he tried to hold back his own tears. People were staring and he didn't want them to see him cry. "I'm sorry Mama…" he whispered. This only made urge to cry stronger and he tried valiantly to hold it back.

His mother stepped back and held his face in her hands. It only took one look for her to see the struggle he was putting up against his own tears. "Let's go back and wait for your father." She straightened up and they began walking back to their tent. She took a few steps and stumbled a bit. She grabbed on to Clopin's shoulder for balance before steadying herself again.

"Are you alright, Mama?" he asked. He knew she had a lifelong illness which caused her to feel weak sometimes and put her in delicate health. She spent most of her time in the Court as she often lacked the energy to travel through the city. But she did love to hear her son tell her about the little adventures he had on the outside. Though, today, he did not think she would like to hear his story, and he was not feeling up to telling it.

"I'll be fine, love," she answered, catching her breath. "I'm just not having a good day is all."

"Yeah, me neither," he deadpanned.

She giggled and took his hand. "Come, we both need our rest."

Clopin wished he could make a run for the tent. The events of the day were beginning to overwhelm him and it did not escape his attention that he was to blame for most of it. When he and Noelle began running from the kidnappers, he didn't have time to processes much; only that they were in danger and needed to escape. While hiding in the bush, Noelle told him a bit about their plans, and he got to hear their cruelty for himself while hiding in the tree. But at the inn, when Noelle told her side of the story, it was the first time he knew the full extent of what happened. She faced them directly. She was forced to stand there and listen as they appraised her like a piece of livestock. They hadn't touched him, but they had their hands on her. He'd seen the man hit her and he felt his anger burn him from the inside out.

They got away, he helped her the best he could, but that didn't change the fact that he was to blame for all of it. He knew it could have ended so much worse for the both of them. Yet, they didn't need to go through it at all if it hadn't been for him. If he had listened to Noelle. If he had seen the witch for the fraud that she was. If hadn't been so stubborn, so selfish, so stupid. He'd risked their lives and for what?

He was so thankful when their tent came into view. He wanted to make a mad dash for it, curl up in a ball on his mat, and disappear from the world for a while. But, his mother was still holding his hand. She was holding it, he knew, in case she stumbled again. She was feeling weak, and that was his fault too. She spent all night worrying about him, and knowing what happened to him wouldn't have helped.

Once they were inside, he immediately collapsed on his mat. He curled his legs up, buried his face in his knees, and finally let the tears out. He was thankful that it was his mother who was with him and not his father. He thought his father would berate him for crying. He'd say that Clopin was almost a man, and men don't cry. But he needed this. Over the last few hours, he'd been angry, frightened, worried, exhausted, ashamed, and a million other emotions he couldn't name. He was too full and he need to get it out somehow.

Talia knelt beside him and gently placed a hand on his back. "Clopin, love, do you want to talk about it?"

"Uh-uh," he mumbled, shaking his head.

"Would you like some water?"

He just shook his head again.

She wrapped her arms around him and kissed the top of his head. A silent tear rolled down her cheek. "I'm here, love. I'll stay with you."

[-]

Noelle never noticed before how cold and beady Frollo's eyes were. She'd never seen him this close up. Anyone with any sense stayed as far away from him as possible. But now, here she was. She sat on the inn's front desk, hair washed, in a clean linen dress, staring up at him as he towered over her. His severe, harsh face made her squirm as she tried to remember the story she was supposed to tell.

Behind Frollo stood a gaggle of soldiers awaiting their orders. The inn's common room now filled with curious and outraged spectators who heard scraps of information about the kidnappers. Adrien hid among the crowd. She briefly made eye contact with him and he gave her a slight nod. She glanced behind herself to see her uncle, her brother, and her father standing together. Her father wore the same stern expression he always wore in public. She knew this was necessary, but she wished he'd give her the kind smile which was much more natural on his face. "Go on," he said with cold, matter-of-fact voice. "Tell him what you told me."

"I…I went out past the miller's house," she began as she fidgeted with her hands on the edge of the desk. "I was looking for wildflowers when a man came out of the woods. He asked me if I knew the way to the city and I told him yes. He asked if I would show him and I said yes again. But, he said his wife was in the woods and he asked if I would come with him to fetch her. So, I followed him in. We walked down the path a while and there was a woman there, but there was another man too. The other man grabbed me and they started talking about brothels that pay for little girls and what price they could get for me. The first man said he wanted to see if his trap would work on another kid, so he left. He came back a while later with a gypsy boy. The boy saw me. He figured out what was going on and he fought back. He threw a stick at the man holding me. It hit him in the eye and he let me go. The boy took my hand and we ran away. We hid in a bush, but the woman found us. She took out a knife and cut my hand. She said it was punishment for running away. The boy helped me pull away from her and we ran again. We hid up a tree this time and they lost us. But, from our tree, we could see them. The men were angry that she let us get away. They got in an argument and one of the men killed her. The two men then said they'd hide along the path and catch us when we passed. When they walked away, we climbed down and we followed the river back instead. We split up after we got out of the woods. I came straight home and told my father what happened."

Frollo silently considered her story for what felt like an eternity before asking "Have you seen these people before?"

"No."

"And the gypsy? Did you know him?"

Noelle shook her head.

"Do you know where he went after you left the woods?"

She shook her head again.

"So, it's possible he went back to the woods. Perhaps the gypsy was working with these people."

Noelle looked up, stunned. "No, we escaped together."

"It could have been part of a rouse to gain your trust," he replied coldly.

"But…that doesn't make sense."

"Perhaps not to you," he scoffed "Whose idea was it to follow the river back?"

"It was my idea but…"

"Did he try to convince you to take the path?"

"No, he just couldn't think of another way back. He wasn't working with them. He helped me escape."

"Why would he help you?" Frollo questioned. "If he was another one of their victims, why wouldn't he run off and save himself?"

 _Because he's not a coward,_ she thought. _Because he's my best friend._ "He probably thought it was the right thing to do."

"You think the gypsy boy is capable of chivalry?" Frollo spat. "He was raised among criminals. I wouldn't disregard the possibility that he was scheming with them. Gypsies have been known to use cunning tricks to steal children. The adults in this group sound like gypsies as well."

"They weren't gypsies!" Noelle shouted, slamming her hands down on the edge of the desk.

"Noelle, control yourself," Rousse scolded.

Frollo sneered at her outburst. "What do you care about gypsies, girl?"

"If you go out looking for gypsies you won't catch the right people!"

Frollo looked taken aback by her insolence. "Listen child…"

Noelle only gave him further insolence. "The woman had greying brown hair and sallow skin. One of the men had blonde hair and pale, pink skin. The other man had brown hair, light skin, and green eyes. None of them were gypsies."

Frollo smirked sinisterly and addressed Rousse behind her. "Observant girl you have here, noticing eye color under such distress."

"I noticed because he grabbed my face and looked into my eyes. He said…"

"Go on," Frollo urged, turning his attention back to her.

"It was bad," Noelle mumbled. She hadn't told her father this part. When she thought about it, she could still feel the man's sweaty hand on her chin and see the wicked look in his eyes. He looked at her with a sort of hunger she couldn't recognize and it frightened her more than anything. She wanted to forget it. It would hurt her to repeat it, and it would hurt he father to hear it. But, she'd let her words get away from her, and there was no taking them back.

"Speak, girl," Frollo commanded. "I'm sure I've heard worse in my career."

Noelle glanced back at her father and then answered. "He said, 'How would you like to fuck a girl with these eyes?'"

The crowd burst in collective gasps and appalled muttering. Frollo snapped back from her as if she'd just spit in his face. Rousse's stony expression faulted only for a second before he turned it into a righteous scowl. "Do you see now? Do you see what they've done to my daughter? I want these men arrested. They should be hanged for their crimes."

"The children of Paris aren't safe until these men are captured," Elliot added. "They already got to my niece and I have three daughters of my own. My oldest, Faye, is just about her age and she loves picking wildflowers. It could have been her. It could have been any of our children."

Frollo nodded and turned to his soldiers. "Captain, go search the woods for the men the girl described. And keep an eye out for the gypsy boy. Whether he's an accomplice or not, I still want to question him."

"That's ridiculous!" shouted a voice from the crowd. It came from Rayna, the famously outspoken tavern keeper.

Her husband, her third and her last, timidly tugged at her sleeve. "Rayna, dear, maybe we shouldn't get involved."

Rayna didn't seem to hear him and continued her outburst. "That boy saved that girl's life and you want to treat him like a criminal? He's a hero. You should be thanking him."

Any rebuttal Frollo might have made was immediately drowned out by the crowd erupting into debate with people either agreeing or disagreeing with Rayna's statement. It was hard to tell, but most people seemed to agree with Rayna's assessment of the situation. Frollo, at the time still somewhat concerned about public image, thought about how to respond to this.

"Wait, Captain," Frollo said holding his hand out and the crowd immediately quieted down. "Janvier, what do you want done to the gypsy boy?"

"Leave him be," Rousse answered after a moment of thought. "He brought my daughter back to me. He's already helped us more than enough."

"And if he was in league with the kidnappers?" Frollo questioned.

Rousse stepped forward and placed a hand on Noelle's shoulder. "My daughter was there. She knows better than anyone what happened in those woods. I believe she is right about this boy."

Frollo nodded and turned toward his soldiers. "Captain, forget the gypsy boy. We don't need him." The captain saluted and led the rest of the soldiers out of the inn. Frollo turned back to the family. "I know your reputation, Janvier. You've never had leniency for delinquents. If your daughter is correct, then you may owe her life to a common criminal. Are you content to be indebted to such people?"

Rousse paused for a moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. "The lives of my children are priceless to me, as they should be to any father. Whoever this boy is, I cannot possibly repay him."

Frollo's cold expression remained unmoved by the answer. "Very well, that will be your burden to bare. And you, girl, now you know what happens to little girls who stray too far from home. You'd do well to remember where your place is." Without another word, he turned sharply and left the inn, the crowd trailing behind him.

Once everyone was gone, Rousse's face melted and he turned his daughter to face him. _"Ange_ , I'm sorry you had to do that," he said, putting both of his hands on her shoulders.

Noelle nodded tiredly and looked up at him. "Papa, can I go to bed now?"

"Of course." Instead of letting her get up, though, he pulled her into a tight hug.

"Papa…"

"I love you, ange," he said, still holding her. "Always remember that."

"I love you too, Papa. Can I go now?"

Rousse kissed her on the cheek before releasing her, and she trudged up the stairs to her bedroom. "What about you?" he asked, turning to Pascal. "Turning in?"

"No, I want to stay up and see if they caught those bastards."

Rousse smiled sadly. "I love you too, son," he said, after a silence. "I want you to know that."

"Father…"

He moved forward and hugged his son around the shoulders. "I am proud of you. I don't think I tell you that enough, but you know when to step up when it counts."

"God, father, you don't have to get sappy on me."

"I know, but, on a night like tonight… I just want to make sure you know in case something were to happen."

Pascal smiled and hugged his father back. "I know father, and she knows."

[-]

Once Adrien returned to the Court, he was surrounded by curious people, all wanting to know the details of what went on. From their questions, he gathered that they heard about the kidnappers in the woods and that Frollo was now somehow involved. He knew he'd have to set the record straight soon as he didn't want outlandish rumors floating around, but he wasn't ready to do it now. First, he wanted to see his son. Clopin was quiet most of the night, which was highly unusual for him. He spoke up to add to the story about the kidnappers, but did not say much else. Under the circumstances, Adrien supposed unusual behavior was to be expected, but it still worried him and he wanted to know what was going on in his son's head.

He dismissed people as they approached him and made his way to the tent where he and his family stayed. He entered and found his wife sitting on a pile of pillows and mending a tear in Clopin's clothes. His son sat curled up on his mat, hiding his face. He went to his wife first. "Talia…" he said as he kissed her. "How is he?"

She sighed and looked despondently at her son. "He's been like that since he came back."

He walked over to where his son sat and crouched down to face him. "Clopin…"

"My fault…" the boy muttered.

"What?"

"It was my fault," Clopin said as he buried his face deeper into his arms and curled himself up tighter. "I wanted to see the witch. Noelle thought it was dangerous, but I went anyway. She followed me to make sure I didn't get hurt. But they hurt her instead. They grabbed her. They hit her. They cut her. She had to listen to them talk about her and make their plans." He began sniffing between words and he tried to hide himself even more. "It was my mistake. It should have been me. It wasn't her fault, it was mine. They would have taken her away and it would have been all my fault. So, whatever punishment you have, just give me the worst you've got. I deserve it."

"I'm not going to punish you."

Clopin looked up. "What?"

"Punishments are meant to teach lessons, to teach that actions have consequences. But, I see you already understand the severity of your mistake."

"I… I'm confused."

Arien put a hand on Clopin's shoulder and gently turned him away from the corner. "You miscalculated and your friend payed dearly for it. I know what that's like. What you're feeling right now, I've felt it too. I'm afraid that happens when you're a leader. People look to you for guidance, but you can't be right all of the time. Sometimes, others face the consequences for the mistakes we make. There is no worse torture than watching the people you care about suffer for your decisions. So, you see, there is nothing I could do which would be worse than this."

Clopin reached up to wipe the tears from his cheeks. "But, Papa, what do I do now? If I'm not going to be punished…"

"Use it as an important lesson. Now that you know this pain, you will do anything to keep from repeating it. You will calculate your moves to give the greatest benefit at the lowest cost. Embrace this lesson. Let the pain make you better and be glad you felt it. Only great leaders, ones who truly care for their people, know this agony."

"I'm not ready to be any kind of leader," Clopin responded forlornly.

Adrien couldn't help but smile and let out a small chuckle. "You're a boy. You are still learning. But you'll get there, son. You'll get there"

[-]

"Noelle…" Pascal whispered as he gently shook her shoulder "Noelle…"

"Huh?" She rolled over and began to rub her eyes with the heel of her hand before she remembered the bandages. Pascal woke her up from a restless sleep. She thankfully couldn't remember the details of her dream. She could only remember the overall feelings of dread and fear in the darkness.

"They caught them," he said softly. "Father said not to wake you, but, if you hurry, you can watch from my window of you want."

Noelle thought for a moment. "No…"

"What?"

"No thank you," she repeated. "I don't want to see them." _Not now, not ever._

"Alright…" Pascal shrugged and began walking toward the door.

"Pascal…" she murmured, stopping him. "Will you stay?"

He looked at her, surprised. "Stay?"

"I don't want to have nightmares," she admitted after a moment.

Pascal could hardly believe these words were coming out of his sister's mouth. She never asked him to do anything like that before. She liked to be tough and brave. She liked to act like she was older than she really was, and she was very convincing at it. In fact, he sometimes had to remind himself that she was still a young girl. "Sure," he answered with a warm smile, "I'll stay."

[-]

A few days later, Rousse was working in his office when Adrien and Clopin appeared at his window. He greeted them and Adrien climbed in, but Clopin only perched himself on the windowsill.

"Is Noelle here?" he asked, holding onto the window frame.

"She's up in her room," Rousse answered. "You can try to talk to her, but I don't think she's in any mood to go out."

"Okay." Clopin hopped out of the window and ran around to the back of the building where he could climb up.

"Wait, you can just…"

"Let the boy go," Adrien chuckled. "I think he prefers that route."

"How's he been?"

"Quieter. He's not back to normal yet, but he'll be there in time. And Noelle?"

"Much the same," Rousse sighed. "She's never been as talkative as Clopin, but she hasn't been herself either. She stays in her room mostly. The only time she left the inn in the last few days was to go to the trial, and I had a hard enough time convincing her to do that."

Adrien nodded gravely and sat down in a chair opposite Rousse's. "I saw the bodies hanging in the square. I assume the trial went well."

"They were found guilty and executed," he replied grimly. "I suppose you can call that a success."

"Something happened?"

Rousse's face hardened and he looked down at his desk. "I didn't want Noelle to go. I didn't want her anywhere near those men again. But, she needed to formally identify them before the court. Then, when she started telling her story, one of them, the brunette, called her a liar. But the other one, the blonde, I suppose he thought Frollo would be more lenient if he confessed."

"He's clearly not from around here," Adrien added with a bitter laugh in his voice.

"He admitted to everything Noelle said, including the parts we made up ourselves. He then turned on his partner, describing every torture and cruelty the other one inflicted on other children. I never thought it possible, but they're even luckier than we thought that they got away when they did. I don't even want to think about what would have happened if…"

"How did the other one react to these accusations?"

"He was enraged. He lost whatever control over himself he had. He started yelling threats at the blonde one. Then he turned on Noelle. The things he said to her… I wanted to volunteer to hang him myself."

"What did he say?"

Rousse was barely able to repeat the string threats and vile names which were directed at his child.

Adrien snarled in disgust. "That…that…" He couldn't think of an insult horrible enough to describe the criminal. He took a moment to collect himself. "Shows remarkable self-control."

"What does?"

"That you didn't kill him right then and there."

A small smile tugged at the corner of Rousse's lips as he imagined the chaos that would create. "At least Frollo let me take her home after that. She's barely left her room since."

"She needs time. They both do." A heavy silence fell over them as Adrien contemplated bringing up a subject he wanted to discuss ever since the children returned that night. "About Noelle, only her hand was cut, right? She didn't have any other injuries?"

"No, why?"

"It's just, I saw the blood on her dress. There was more than that cut should have made."

"What are you getting at?" Rousse asked defensively.

"I think something else happened, something they're not telling us."

"Does it matter?" Rousse scowled. "Whatever they did in those woods, it helped them survive."

"I'm not disputing that, but they may be keeping something serious from us."

Rousse let out a breath and touched to fingers to the bridge of his nose while he thought. "The truth will come out in time. It's over now. The people who hurt them are dead and Frollo will move on to the next trial and forget about this one."

"With a gypsy boy playing the hero in this case, it's likely he'll want to forget it as quickly as possible," Adrien said with a touch of dark humor.

"Clopin…" he began thoughtfully. "My daughter… he…" Rousse wasn't lying the other night when he said he wouldn't be able to repay Clopin for rescuing his daughter from the kidnappers. Now, after the trial, it was clear just how cruel and dangerous those people were, and he could not be more thankful that they were able to escape.

"You don't owe him anything," Adrien said, remembering what Rousse said to Frollo. "He was only doing what he was taught. In fact, if anything, he owes Noelle his life as well."

"What do you mean?"

"I got a bit more of the story from him that night. Apparently, Noelle didn't want to go. She thought it was dangerous. He went into the woods by himself and she followed to make sure he didn't get into trouble. If Noelle hadn't come, he could have been taken by surprise by all three of them. Clopin is a quick and clever boy, but I doubt he would have been able to beat those odds."

"It seems she was doing what she was taught as well," Rousse mussed, a small glimmer of pride growing in him, despite all of his worries. "It's impressive, really. They were a couple of scared kids. They could have run off and abandoned the other one, but they stuck by each other. At least now we know what a good team they make."

"Yes," agreed Adrien, "they're great at getting in and out of trouble together. But the future hinges on them being able to stay out of trouble."

[-]

Noelle sat on her bed, a book in her lap, though she wasn't paying any attention the words. Her mind wasn't wandering, exactly. She kept a firm grip on her thoughts so as not to accidently remember certain things. But she did let it fog over. She had a good mind. The adults who knew her all said so. She enjoyed reading, thought puzzles, and anything that let her flex her brain. Right now, though, thinking was the last thing she wanted to do. If she did, she knew where her thoughts would inevitably turn.

"Noelle…"

She looked up to see Clopin crouched on her windowsill, hanging onto the frame.

"Hi," he said uncharacteristically subdued as he hopped into her room.

"Hi…" she answered in her own muted tone. She placed her ribbon bookmark between the paged and closed her book.

"They hung the men," Clopin began awkwardly, nervously swinging his fists at his side. "I saw them on my way over here. Did you watch the hanging?"

"No, I didn't want to," she set aside her book more aggressively than necessary. "I already had to go to the trial and that was more than enough for me. I don't want to see them or think about them ever again."

"What was the trial like?" he asked, moving closer to her bed.

"Awful. I had to face them and Frollo all at the same time. I had to tell everyone what happened. And then, the tall one started screaming at me…" Tears pinched at her eyes as she remembered what he said to her and she furiously wiped them away. "He's disgusting. I hate him. I'm glad he's dead."

"At least they can't hurt anymore kids. Papa said it's a good thing Frollo hung someone who deserves it for once," Clopin said with a pleading grin. "And everyone thinks they're the ones who stabbed the woman, so-"

"Don't," Noelle snapped, cutting him off.

His grin died and fidgeted nervously with his hands. There was no more putting it off. He came to say something to her and now was the time. "Noelle, I wanted to say, I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything…" he began as his eyes began to glisten. "For not believing you, for making you go look for the witch in the first place… for saying I'd never trust you again."

Tears began to gather in her eyes as well, but she made no move get rid of them. She got up from her bed and hugged him tight. "I'm sorry too."

"You're sorry?"

"I'm sorry I threatened to tell your father. You had a point. We're supposed to be able to keep each other's secrets. I should have talked to you sooner. But I was so angry…"

Clopin wrapped his arms around her as well. "I was angry too." The tears flowed freely down their cheeks as they both apologized.

"I'm sorry I was mad at you for a whole week."

"I'm sorry for that too. I'm sorry I yelled at you on the bridge."

"I'm sorry I yelled at you in the woods."

"I'm sorry we've got so much to be sorry about."

Noelle chuckled. "Me too." She leaned back to look up at his face, but kept her arms around his. "I don't like fighting with you. You're my best friend."

"You're mine, too. Who else would protect me from a witch?"

"Who else would save me from kidnappers?" She slid her hands down his arms to meet his. He was careful not to ruffle her bandages as he curled his fingers around her palm. For some reason, her stomach fluttered at his consideration. "We'll always look out for each other, right?"

"Of course," he answered, smiling at her. "It's what our fathers do, isn't it?"

"We're going to grow up to do a lot of things our fathers do."

"Then, I suppose we'd better get used to it."


	8. Present 4: The Drink

**Present 4**

Paris was frozen in fear. Apart from soldiers searching homes or taking in new prisoners, the streets were devoid of the life they previously had. The first few weeks into Frollo's reign of terror brought much loss to the entire population. Early on, the safe house owners learned that they were not the only ones willing to shelter gypsies in their homes. However, the inexperience of these brave and generous people made them easy targets. Frollo picked off these makeshift hideaways quickly, often arresting everyone in the house, including children, and burning the buildings on his way out. Other citizens hid in their homes, only emerging when absolutely necessary.

The inexperienced were not the only ones who fell to Frollo. Jamal was the first in the circle to be arrested. Though he was in the circle for a long time, longer than any other current member, his generosity outweighed his practicality. His home was not big enough to accommodate the number of people he took in and so they were harder to hide. His children were forced to hastily relocate their people before Frollo came to their doors. Two of them were able to do this successfully, but the third, while able to get his people out in time, was arrested when Frollo's soldiers found gypsy artifacts hidden in his home. Slowly but surely, others began to fall.

Second only to the Court, the Janvier Inn was the safest place in the city. It was built by Noelle's great grandfather who included several hidden features in its design. Though it's debatable whether her great grandfather had noble intentions in mind when building the inn, her grandfather certainly did. The story went that, as a child, Noelle's grandfather helped a gypsy boy hide from a particularly cruel guard. Their friendship started that day and the gypsy boy eventually grew up to be called King of the Gypsies. Noelle's through his closest friend about the hardships the gypsies faced. He decided to help them by hiding unfairly persecuted gypsies. From there, the circle was born.

At present, the inn was filled with gypsies. Every room, including Pascal's and her father's old rooms, held at least one family. She'd even given up her own room, instead sleeping on the mattress in her office. It was a safety precaution as well. If someone came to the door at night, she'd be the first one to know who was there. During the day, she kept her common room open to keep a look of normalcy, even though she almost never had customers. The gypsies stayed in their rooms during this time in case she did. She closed at supper time and they could move more freely, though still quietly, through the inn.

Noelle was upstairs checking on everyone when Gerard caught her in the hall. Each safe house had a sort of spokesperson whose job was to keep the other gypsies calm and deal more directly with owners of the safe house. At the inn, it was Gerard. "Noelle, do you have any idea what's going on out there?" He whispered. Even when no one else was in the inn, they were careful to keep quiet.

"You mean apart from half the city burning?" she whispered back. They all had to know about that. The smoke was so think, one could taste it without having to step outside.

"I'm serious."

"So am I," she replied crossing her arms. "I've told you all everything I know. I don't have any more news. There's no one on the streets to even ask right now."

"Are you saying there's nothing today at all?"

"Not so far."

Gerard sighed and glanced at doors around them. "I need to tell them something," he pleaded. "They're scared, Noelle. All of this waiting around is killing them."

Noelle shook her head in dismay. She couldn't imagine how knowing exactly which lives were being destroyed that particular day could possibly bring anyone any comfort. "Well, news isn't going to make them feel any better," she replied hurriedly and began to turn away.

"Wait." Without thinking, he grabbed her by the arms. In a brief moment of panic, she pushed him away.

"Don't do that. You know I hate that," she snapped still in a hushed tone.

"I'm sorry," he apologized genuinely. He was there the night she and Clopin escaped the kidnappers. He knew why she hated being grabbed. "I didn't mean anything by it."

Noelle sighed and looked down at her feet, ashamed of her short outburst. "I know you didn't. It's alright. We're all jumpy."

The bell above the front door clanged, startling both into silence.

"I'll be down in a moment," Noelle called down the stairs. She turned back to Gerard who, she realized, was waiting for a plan. "Just remind everyone to keep quiet."

She hurried down the stairs to see Faye waiting by her front desk. The wrench on her heart loosened just a little when she saw her cousin.

"Noelle," Faye said softly as she opened her arms.

"Faye," Noelle answered reciprocating her sweet cousin's hug. She pulled back, but still held Faye's hands gently. "Have you brought news? Apparently it's all anyone wants around here."

"Nothing good, I'm afraid," Faye answered, pulling away completely.

"What? On a beautiful day like today?" Noelle gestured towards the window where the orange-stained sky showed through the cracks in the shutters.

The corner of Faye's lips tugged upward, but the rest of her face remained solemn. "I just left the children with Beatrice," she said, referring to her youngest sister. "She didn't take in any gypsies, so I hope they'll be safe there."

"Why? What are you talking about?"

Tears gathered in Faye's eyes as she spoke. "Some of Leonard's brothers have been discovered."

"Even the blacksmith's shop?"

"Marius…" the tears spilled over now.

"What about Marius?" Noelle put one hand on Faye's shoulder and lifted her chin with the other.

"Marius is dead," Faye replied, wrapping her arms around Noelle. "When the soldiers came for him, he and some of the gypsies at his shop fought back. Frollo ordered their execution on the spot."

"No…" She whispered as she patted her cousin's back. She'd never been fond of Marius, but he was still a brave man who risked his life to protect these people. Now he was as dead as justice in this city. "Faye, I'm so sorry."

"We think we'll be next," she sobbed into Noelle's shoulder. "We're trying to move the gypsies as quickly as we can, but there's no telling when Frollo will be at our door."

"Where are the gypsies going to go?"

Faye straightened up and wiped her tears. "Some of them are going to try to make it back to the Court. Leonard's trying to find a place for the others, but…"

"They can come here. I've still got…" Noelle stopped to think of any other place she had to put people. She supposed she could share her space in her office, but it was too close to the common room. It would be too risky.

"No, you've already got more than enough hidden here," Faye said firmly. "Jamal was found out because he took on more than he could handle. When I took those people into my home, it became my job to protect them. I am the owner of my safe house and I am prepared to go down with it, just as you are prepared to go down with this place."

"Faye, if you really think they'll come for you, you should hide here."

"I can't do that," Faye gasped. "Leonard is still there. I can't leave him to deal with the soldiers on his own."

Noelle put her hands on Faye's shoulders protectively. "If he knew there was a chance you could save yourself, he'd want you to take it."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did." Faye drew herself up. "When we married, we made a promise to always stand together. He loves me as much as I love him. I can't let him take the fall for both of us. Just think what you would do for…"

The bell over the door clanged again and both women turned to see who was coming in. They both immediately tensed when they saw it was a small group of soldiers. The group consisted of two lieutenants and the new captain of the guard. Noelle somewhat knew the lieutenants simply through living in the city. The older one, Piers, was coincidentally the same soldier who, as a young, new recruit, searched her room when she was a child. The other, Brice, was about her age and was known to be severe in his work at "keeping the peace" as an attempt to impress Frollo and get ahead. The new captain was a stranger to her, however, as she'd only ever seen him at the feast of fools. She knew his name was Phoebus and that he was some sort of war hero, but not much else.

"Come on, it's about time we bought our new captain a drink," Brice said, throwing his arm around the captain.

"It's really quite alright," the captain said uncomfortably, shrugging off Brice's arm.

Noelle quickly turned Faye's back to the soldiers in order to hide her cousin's tearful eyes. "Um… so anyway that book you wanted to borrow in upstairs in my room. You can go up and get it if you want."

Faye quickly dried her tears and put on a chipper voice. "Oh sure. I'll be right back." Faye hurried up the steps, knowing what she was really meant to do. Noelle was confident Faye understood that she needed to warn all of the gypsies about the soldiers in the common room.

"We'll just get a serving girl and… wait, where's all of the serving girls?" Piers asked, sitting down at a table.

"Not here," Noelle answered curtly.

"Well why not?"

"I haven't had customers," she explained as she crossed the room to their table. "It makes no sense to pay them if they don't have work to do."

"Well, we'll just have some food and…"

"No food."

"What do you mean no food?" Brice snapped.

"I don't have any work for the cook either."

"I've seen smoke coming from your chimney," Piers pointed out. "You've been cooking."

"I have to feed myself, don't I?" Noelle answered, crossing her arms. "There's not enough for you." _How can you tell it's from my chimney anyway?_ She thought bitterly, remembering how many homes and businesses Frollo set alight in the last few weeks.

"How can you have an inn with no drinks and no food?" Piers asked.

"Traditionally, inns house travelers," Noelle explained impatiently. "I can't get any guests with the roads blocked off. No travelers, no guests. No guests, no reason to have cooks and serving girls."

"So you're saying you don't have any drinks for us?"

A bump sounded from upstairs, silencing everyone in the room.

"What was that?" Brice asked suspiciously.

"Must have been Faye," she dismissed quickly. "Anyway, you can still have drinks. I just don't have serving girls. Ale?"

"Ale would be great, thank you," the captain said.

They heard Faye's light footsteps as she hurried down the stairs, carrying a book. "I've got your book," she said once she reached the bottom.

"Was that you up there?" Noelle asked, going over to her cousin.

"Oh, yes, I'm so clumsy. I dropped the book. Well, I can see you're busy and I'm all set, so I will see you soon." Faye leaned in to quickly hug Noelle goodbye. "Don't worry about me," she whispered. "Stay safe."

"You as well," Noelle whispered back.

"Can you believe they're related?" Piers snickered as Faye walked out the door.

Noelle ignored this and hurried to the kitchen to get the ale. She filled the steins fast, put them on a tray, and carried them back out to the soldiers' table. They'd evidently been talking about her cousin.

"Eh, too bad she's off limits," Piers grumbled. "She's been married for years. Kids too. Her looks aren't going to last forever."

"Bet she's a wreck under that skirt," Brice added with a sneer.

"Men, that's enough," commanded the captain, who, by the look on his face, was already irritated with his comrades.

Noelle stepped beside the captain's seat and carefully set a stein down in front of him. "Captain," she acknowledged respectfully, deciding it couldn't hurt to suck up a little to Frollo's second in command. The fact that he was the only one who apparently wasn't busy degrading Faye inched him a bit into her favor as well. She unceremoniously plunked the other two steins in front of the lieutenants started to walk away

"What about us?" Brice protested. "You should show us the same respect."

 _Like you showed my cousin?_ She mumbled something that sounded like "lieutenants" and went over to the front desk. She set the tray down and started going over her books, but kept an eye and an ear on the soldiers.

"Forget that shrew," Piers huffed, taking a drink from his stein.

"It's no wonder she never married," Brice added. "Who'd want a salty wife like that?"

"You, if memory serves."

"I wanted a piece of the inn, not her."

Piers let out a chuckle. "She turned you down flat, either way."

"Not her, her father," Brice corrected. "Said I was only interested in getting my hands on the inn."

"You were."

"That's not the point," Brice snapped. "Anyway, I never even got the chance to woo her. I guarantee she'd be much more pleasant if I had her. She'd know who was boss."

Piers rolled his eyes. "You just keep telling yourself that."

"One thing's for sure, no one's come calling in a long while," Brice said, mockingly. "Bet she's got cobwebs between her legs."

As her anger rose, Noelle's grip unconsciously tightened, snapping her quill in half.

The captain scowled and drummed his fingers on the table. "You know, it is unwise to insult the proprietor of an establishment."

"Her, especially," Piers said, turning to his captain. "She's got this rule, see. If you get too handsy with her serving girls, she chases you off with a fire poker."

"Impressive," the captain replied with a smirk.

"Not us," Brice said proudly. "No one touches us. That's the great thing about working in this city, Captain. Frollo's guards have it made here."

"But of course, you uphold your honor regardless," the captain replied snidely.

"Of course," Brice dismissed, seemingly oblivious to his captains disapproval. "More ale," he called to Noelle.

Begrudgingly, Noelle went back to the kitchen and returned carrying a tray with three full steins on it. "Just so you know, this your last round," she said, passing out the steins.

"What?" Piers exclaimed slamming his empty stein on the table.

"I can't have you drinking all of my ale," Noelle replied, giving them a cold glare. "Who knows when I'll be able to refill my supply?"

"That's the second snide comment you've made about the blockades," Brice noted with a suspicious bent to his voice.

"I can't say it's been good for business," Noelle argued, not backing down.

"Then you should be more than happy to serve us all the ale we want," Piers said, beginning to down his ale.

"It almost seems like you're trying to get rid of us." Brice got up moved around the table toward her. "I wonder why that is."

"Well, it certainly can't have anything to do with your cobweb comment," she snapped as he got into her face.

Piers left out a laugh into his stein. "I thought she heard that."

Brice ignored his partner's ridicule and eyed Noelle suspiciously. "You know, I'm sure I've seen gypsies leaving here before. You let them drink here, before the recent cleansing, of course."

"They paid."

"And if they were to pay you to let them hide out here?"

"All the King's riches wouldn't be enough to make me do something that stupid," she scoffed.

Brice grinned. "So you wouldn't mind if we had a little look around."

Her heart stopped. "Absolutely not," she commanded. She couldn't let them out of the common room. She needed to think of an excuse quick. Her eyes flickered to Piers and she had it. "Not after last time."

Brice was unsatisfied. "Last time? If you aren't hiding something…"

Noelle ignored him and turned to Piers. "I believe you were there the last time," she said, speaking directly to the older guard. "You came into my room and tore it apart, do you remember?

Piers had to pause and think for a moment. "Oh yeah, come to think of it," he said, realization dawning on him. "You were just a little thing back then."

Noelle nodded. "And what did you find?"

"Nothing," Piers said, getting back to his drink.

"Exactly. You and the rest of the guards tore apart the inn and found nothing. At least back then, the inn was full and the guests helped put their rooms back together. I'm afraid I'm not up to the task all by myself. It'd be a waste of your time and mine."

Piers sighed and looked pleadingly at his partner. "Come one, Brice. I don't want to have to tear up this whole place. We're off duty."

Brice frowned and turned toward his captain. "Well, if you're too lazy maybe the Captain and I can…"

"No." The captain slammed his stein down, the clang reverberating around the room. His firm, demanding tone startled everyone at the table.

"What?" Brice stammered out.

"As he said, we're off duty," the captain explained more calmly. "We've had a long shift and I want to finish my drink in peace."

"But…"

"Sit down, Brice. That's an order."

Brice slumped down into a seat and glowered at both Noelle and his captain. Noelle, for her part, knew this was not the end of it. Instead of going back to her work at her desk, she picked up a rag and pretended to wipe down the banister. She kept and keen eye on the soldiers as they finished their drinks. No one was going to get up the stairs without going through her and she wasn't about to let anyone pass.

The soldiers finished their drinks soon enough. Piers and the captain put their money on the table and headed toward the door. Brice, however, hung back. He slunk up behind Noelle where she was still wiping away imaginary dust. He grabbed her arms and her heart immediately started pounding. She froze completely in an effort to keep herself from panicking and trying to throw the guard off of her. She knew if she tried, he'd claim she was assaulting a guard and arrest her. "I know you're hiding something," he hissed in her ear. "Frollo will hear of your insolence. I'll be back tonight with more than enough men to tear your inn apart. Believe me, we will find your secret."

"Brice," the captain called from the door. "We're leaving."

Brice scowled at his captain, but backed off. The captain and Piers turned and walked out the door. Brice flashed Noelle a sinister grin, then headed for toward the exit as well.

Noelle took a few breaths to try to slow her beating heart, but they came out as frantic panting instead. "You didn't pay," she managed to call at the door, hurriedly throwing her stern façade over her words. Brice paused at the door just long enough to take out a few coppers and toss them behind him. The coins rolled around feebly before clambering pathetically to the floor. The bell clanged and the door slammed shut.

As soon as she was alone, she felt her knees go weak and she leaned on the banister for support. Her stomach was twisted in a knot and her heart felt as though it might beat out of her chest. Her mind raced, trying to calculate some way out. The inn had hidden doors and cabinets which people could hide in while the search went on, but that wasn't enough. She had more people than she had hiding places and Brice threatened to tear her inn apart anyway. For four generations the inn kept its secret and, to her knowledge, they never had to turn anyone away. Now, it might finally be exposed.

Collecting herself the best she could, she stumbled up the stairs. Action had to be taken immediately if there was to hope for anyone. She knocked on Gerard's door harder than she meant to. After a moment she realized that he would think she was a soldier, so she called to him. "Gerard, it's me."

He opened the door and immediately saw her frazzled expression. "Noelle, what' wrong?" His heart clenched in preparation as he knew what she was about to say.

"The soldiers are gone, but they're going to come back," she told him, her heart sinking fast.

The color immediately went out of his face. "What?"

"They suspected there were gypsies her, so they're going to tell Frollo and come back with enough soldiers to search the inn. They'll tear it apart. Those were his exact words."

Gerard closed his eyes and leaned against the door frame. "Oh God…"

"You all need to leave. It isn't safe here anymore."

Gerard straightened up and rubbed his eyes impatiently. "Will they be back before nightfall?"

"I don't know," Noelle answered. In her mind, she analyzed what Brice said and what he might plan to do. "The soldier who threatened me was off duty and he said he'd be back tonight. He'll probably want to be a part of the search, so they might not come until after the evening shift change."

"Then, we might be able to make it to court at twilight during the shift change," Gerard answered after some thought. "It's our best chance."

Noelle nodded gravely. "It might be our only chance."


	9. Past 4(a): The Marriage Pact Pt 1

**Past 4**

Noelle woke up that morning to a note from Clopin shoved between the closed shutters of her window. It asked her to meet him in a specific alley by noon and offered no further details. The now 16 year old girl rolled her eyes when she read the note but smiled as well. Whatever Clopin was up to, it was sure to be amusing at the least.

She got dressed, quickly finished her morning chores and headed off into the city with basket holding only a book inside. She didn't tend to leave home without one these days. As she went on her way, she was approached by Leonard, the blacksmith's youngest son who was about her age. He looked nervous, but that wasn't particularly unusual. The boy had always been a bit shy and sensitive, but still kind to whoever he met. Though, he did have a tendency to be more anxious around Noelle. She suspected that her tendency to be a bit abrasive made him nervous.

"Good day, Noelle," Leonard mumbled rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yes, good day," she answered.

"So um…" He nervously fidgeted, looking at the ground. "You going somewhere?"

She eyed him suspiciously. "Yes, I was just going to meet a friend."

For some reason this seemed to disappoint him. "Oh… well… okay."

"Alright…" There was a long pause, both waiting for the other to say something.

"We'll probably start seeing each other more often now," Leonard blurted out, unable to stand the uncomfortable silence.

"I…guess…" This struck Noelle as odd. She vaguely wondered if their fathers were working on something together that she hadn't been told about.

"Yes, well, I hope you're alright with that."

She gaped for a moment, unsure of what to say to that. "I suppose I am."

Leonard seemed surprised by this and finally looked up at her. "Really? You don't mind?"

"No, you're fine…"

"Really? I thought you'd be upset."

"About what?" she asked, confused.

"About, you know…"

She shook her head. "I don't."

Leonard suddenly stopped and his face turned red. "Oh, um, forget I said anything." He hurried off without so much as a goodbye.

Noelle watched him run off into the crowd, dumbfounded. "How strange…" She merely shrugged her shoulders and continued on. She only had to walk another block before she saw her cousin, Faye, coming toward her. Noelle smiled and went to greet her. Of all her cousins, she and Faye were the closest in age, though Faye was older by a few months. Faye's mother acted as a wet nurse for Noelle when she was a baby. Because of this, they spent a lot of time together as young children. However, they grew up to be quite different.

Faye was the picture of the perfect young maiden. She was sweet, gentle, and polite. Her shiny chestnut waves, emerald green eyes, and long eyelashes made her one of the most beautiful girls in the city. Noelle, on the other hand, tended to rub people the wrong way. She had a knack for insulting people with her dry commentary, whether she meant to or not. People never called her beautiful, though she'd heard the word "striking" a few times. She imagined this mostly had to do with her vividly colored hair and eyes. It always annoyed her when people acted surprised when they learned the two were related. It irritated her even more when they assumed she and her cousin didn't get along. The truth was that Faye was the closest thing Noelle had to a sister.

"Faye, how are you?" she greeted. Though, when she approached she saw her cousin's dejected expression.

"Me? I'm fine…" Faye answered with a quivering chin.

"Do you know if anything's going on with Leonard? He seems more afraid of me than usual." This seemed like a good place to start. It was old news among the children of the circle that Faye and Leonard were romancing each other. She reasoned their strange behavior was somehow connected.

Faye's eyes filled with tears. "No, I'm sure he's perfectly fine."

"You sure?" she asked, gently placing her arm around Faye's shoulders. "What's wrong?"

Fay only looked away. "There's nothing wrong."

"No, there is." Noelle took Faye by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "Tell me who upset you. I'll tear them to shreds."

"There's no need," Faye answered, shrugging her off. "Everything's going according to plan."

"What plan?"

"You…" Faye turned to her, surprised. "You're not being sarcastic right now, are you?"

"No. What's going on?"

"You know what," she began to run off, "I should get going. I'll see you soon."

Noelle watched her cousin go, baffled by both her and Leonard. "Again, strange." She went on to the designated alley and when she turned the corner, she saw a large cart half-painted in bright colors. Clopin stood outside of it working on its paint job when he noticed her coming into the alley.

"Ah, you're here. What do you think?" he put his brush in his paint bucket and stepped back to look at it with her.

"This is incredible. Did you build this?"

He grinned proudly. "Well, I had some help from my cousins but -ah hell, I'll hog all the credit- yes, I built it."

"What are you going to do with it?"

"My sweet _garce_ ," he gasped, feigning offence. "Do you not listen to a word I say?"

"You mean the puppets?" she asked, giving his a questioning look.

He softly took her hands and led her to the door. "Why don't you come in and find out?"

They stepped inside. It was furnished simply with only a mat and a small table. She imagined once it was finished he would decorate it as elaborately as he pleased. However, the cart was filled with puppets and props. They hung on hooks and were laid carefully on shelves. The time and attention he gave to each one was evident in their quality. Noelle gingerly felt the fabric body of one which hung by her head. "Wow, when did you make all of these?"

"Gradually, I guess," he answered modestly, though the proud grin still showed on his face.

"They're amazing," she breathed, looking around at the colorful puppets which surrounded them.

Clopin smiled and went over to the small table with a faceless puppet and a can of paint on it. He picked up a paintbrush and began painting eyes onto the blank puppet.

"Ugh that's morbid," Noelle commented, picking up a puppet version of Frollo, pinching it between her fingers.

"Not if I make one of the other puppets hit him with a mallet."

"Be careful who you do that in front of," she warned.

He scoffed in return. "I'm not stupid."

"Just reckless." She folded the puppet, taking great care to make sure she laid it back down exactly the way it was before. Beside it, she noticed a pretty girl puppet which seemed to be holding hands with a smiling boy puppet. This reminded her of her odd meetings with both Faye and Leonard. She then sighed and sat down on the mattress, setting her basket down next to her.

"Something on your mind?" He asked, now moving on to the puppet's mouth.

"I ran into Faye and Leonard on my way here. They were both acting strange. Faye was near tears and Leonard couldn't look me in the eye."

"Trouble in paradise?"

Noelle shrugged. "Maybe. But Leonard said something about seeing more of each other. Perhaps their families are pressuring them to get married."

"Why would Faye be crying then? You'd think they'd be elated."

"Maybe she doesn't want to get married yet," Noelle said defensively. "Perhaps they were discussing it before I met them and that's why they were acting strange."

"Well, I suppose we'll find out eventually, whether they get married or not."

"True…" she trailed off, deciding to drop the subject for now. "Oh speaking of marriage proposals, you'll never guess who tried to woo me the other day."

CLopin put his puppet down and went to join her on the mat. "Well then, tell me."

"Do you know Brice? He's the son of one of the guards."

"Oh no, a guard's son tried to court you?" he laughed.

She grinned mischievously and continued. "I was sweeping up the common room when Brice came in and went straight to my father. He said he sought a courtship. My father of course told him no. He said that Brice was only interested in the inn, not me. And do you want to know what the fool said?"

"Do tell"

"He admitted it! He said 'Well of course. What other reason is there?'"

"And your father immediately rewarded him for his honesty by promising your hand in marriage."

"My father changed his answer from 'no' to 'never.' Brice got all huffy, so my father said 'Fine, try asking her.' So he came over to where I was sweeping..."

"Please tell me he used some sort of 'sweep you off your feet' line," he pleaded.

"He wasn't even that clever," she laughed. "He talked about himself. He said he was going to be one of Frollo's top men one say, so I couldn't possibly get any better offers."

"What did you say?"

"I said when he put it that way, spinsterhood seemed like a pretty good deal."

"Poor boy, I might feel sorry for him if he weren't such an arrogant oaf." He spotted the book in her basket and reached across her to grab it. "But of course, we can't all be as dashing as Monsieur Prince Henry of Portugal."

"Hey, give it back." She tried to grab it but he held it away from her. He got up and started flipping through the pages. She jumped up and lunged for it, but he held her back. "You'd better not lose my place."

He ignored her and continued flipping through the book. "Reading this again, I see. That's how many times now?" he asked, dodging her grabbing hands. He turned his back to her and held the book out of her reach. She glommed onto his back and tried to stretch her arms over his shoulders for it. "How long exactly have you been in love with dear Henry?"

"Please, if he were still alive, he'd be an old man," she answered, still trying valiantly to reclaim her book.

He turned to her. He pushed her away with one arm and held the book high in the air with the other. "Tell me, if he showed up tomorrow wanting to whisk you away to sail the world with him, how long would it take you to leave? Two, maybe three seconds?"

"Don't be absurd," she said, jumping for it now.

"Why, you wouldn't even say goodbye to me."

"I would so."

"Ah-ha, so you would leave," he pointed an accusing finger at her. "Fine, you'd say goodbye to me in the fourth second and forget me forever by the fifth."

"That's ridiculous," she huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "I would not leave and I would never forget you."

He grinned mischievously, his long, dark hair falling in his flashing brown eyes. "Prove it."

She smirked and took his face in both hands. She stood on her toes and kissed him fiercely. He put his free arm around her and she moved her hands to grasp the front of his tunic. He brought his book arm down. Without breaking the kiss, Noelle took the book from him and tossed it on the mattress before grasping his tunic again. They stopped to breathe a bit, then went back in, this time pulling each other as close as possible.

It wasn't their first kiss, with each other or anyone else. Their first kiss came one day when he was fourteen and she was thirteen. Clopin made the mistake of asking Gerard what kissing was like. Later that same day, he was approached by Estelle, a gypsy girl his age, who offered to show him how to kiss. When he told Noelle about this, she, not to be outdone, went out and kissed one of the baker's boys. This caused a brief argument which was quickly resolved when they decided to even the score by kissing each other. Since then, they wound up kissing quite often.

Once they finished their second intense kiss, Clopin beamed and picked her up. He spun her around as much as the small space would allow. "Oh my dear Noelle," he said in an exaggerated, overly-macho voice, "you are the most radiant woman I, Prince Henry, have ever met. Run away with me. Together, we'll sail the seas and discover new worlds. I'll even name an island after you." He took a misstep, sliding his foot in a drop of wet paint and they came crashing down. He wound up on top of her and they bother gasped as they tried to regain their breath.

"Well, as long as you're paying for the island," Noelle groaned, pulling a stray chunk of wood out from under her back and tossing it aside.

"You're going to be expensive I see," he answered, plucking off a puppet which fell on them in their collapse.

She smiled and rolled her eyes. " _Saluade._ "

His eyes fixated on her smirking lips and he leaned in again. "That's not nice."

[-]

Noelle returned to the inn in an unusually good mood. She actually smiled at the neighbors as she passed. When she walked in, she saw Pascal sitting at a table in the common room, practicing balancing the books.

"Ah sister," he greeted, welcoming the interruption. "How was your outing? Did you make anyone cry yet today?"

"Sadly no, but it's only the afternoon. How are the books coming?"

"Frustratingly," he answered putting his quill down. "I'm not getting the number father says I should."

"Did you account for all of the overhead?" she asked, leaning over his shoulder to see his work. "Employee wages, food, ale, log books…"

"Yes, I did all of that."

"Quills, ink…"

He glanced away sheepishly. "…No…"

Noelle smirked and picked up the quill. "The little things cost money too, brother," she teased, playfully brushing the feathered end under his nose.

Pascal smirked back and snatched the quill. "Here's an idea. When father dies, you handle the finances and I'll be the handsome front man who doesn't scare away the guests."

"Noelle, is that you out there?" Their father called, peaking his head out of his office.

"No, it's Frollo in a red wig," she called back.

Rousse sighed and rolled his eyes. "Noelle, we need to talk." He stepped out of his office and began up the stairs. "Come with me."

Noelle cocked an eyebrow in confusion. Her father only took her upstairs for a 'talk' he was angry with her. "Um, Father, I was only joking about Frollo…" she defended, following him up the stairs.

"This isn't about that."

"Oh, did I do something else wrong?"

"No, it isn't anything like that." They continued up until they reached her bedroom. Once inside, she sat on her bed while he stood in front of her, fidgeting nervously.

"Alright, what is this about?"

"Noelle… ange…" he began, gently, "you are a young woman now."

"Mmm-hmm…"

"You are growing up," he continued.

"Yes…" She rested her chin on her fist and listened with exaggerated interest.

"You are sixteen now."

"My, this is riveting stuff."

"Noelle, please try to take this seriously," he groaned, sitting on the bed next to her.

"Alright, here," she focused her gaze and lowered her voice, "serious tone."

"The point is, you are at an age where young men will be interested in you," he explained. "They might want a courtship. But, because of the circle, you have to be very careful about who courts you."

"Is this about the guard's son from the other day?" she asked with a sly smile. "I assure you, father, that I am fully prepared to turn down any unworthy specimens of man just as I did that one."

Her father chuckled at this. "That is good to know, but that is not what I was getting at. You see, everyone in the circle has to be careful about who they marry. That is why I have made certain arrangements."

"Arrangements?" He stomach clenched. She knew where this was going.

"Yes, with Orson."

"The blacksmith? One of his…" she mused, then it dawned on her, "Leonard." Suddenly, her earlier awkward encounters made perfect sense.

"Why yes, that's exactly who I had in mind," Rousse confirmed with some surprise.

"That's why he was acting so strange," she said getting up and beginning to pace. "He must have been told already. And that's why Faye was upset."

"Faye?"

"She can't be happy that he'll be courting me." _No wonder she was near tears around me,_ she thought. _This is going to make things so strange between us._

"I don't know where Faye fits into this, but we are not talking about a courtship. We're talking about marriage."

Her heart dropped and she whirled around to face him. "Marriage?"

"Yes, that was the arrangement," he confirmed. "As of now, you and Leonard are betrothed. In a few months, you will be wed."

"Wed? To Leonard?"

"Yes. Now, he is the fifth son, so his brothers will be the ones to take over their father's business. Once you two are wed, he will live with us and work in the inn."

Noelle was no longer listening. She could hardly believe this was happening. When her father first brought up Leonard, she wasn't too worried. She figured that they'd have a short courtship, prove to their fathers that they were a poor match, and move on with their separate lives. Now, all of a sudden, they expected her to marry him. "When was this all decided?" she demanded.

"We'd been discussing it casually for a few years, but we held off on making it official until you were both sixteen," he explained.

"And in those few years, you never once thought of consulting us?"

"Us?"

"Yes, Leonard and me. Remember? The ones actually getting married?" she sniped.

"We asked Leonard about our plan and he agreed to it."

"Leonard got a say and I didn't?" she shouted, her blood boiling now. "I just get told that I'm engaged? Where are they, anyway? If this was their plan too why aren't they here? Why isn't my _betrothed_ here to propose?"

"I told them it would be best to let me break the news to you first so it doesn't come as such a shock," he answered, his patience wearing thin.

"A shock? So, if you didn't tell me first, you'd just stick me in a wedding dress one day and force me down the aisle, is that it?"

"There will still be a short courtship followed by a proposal," he answered with barely controlled calm. "It will be fairly public so that the city sees you two together before you get married."

"You want us to put on a show, huh? Think it might be a bit suspicious if Leonard and I just up and married one day. You worried about the circle be found or the city thinking I'm a pregnant whore?"

"Listen," Rousse demanded, getting up, "I knew you wouldn't be pleased about this. That is why I told you myself, so that you wouldn't risk insulting them. We will discuss the engagement with them soon and when we do, you will not behave like this. Is that clear?"

"I will not insult them," she answered through gritted teeth, "but I'm not going to pretend that I'm happy about being forced into a marriage that I don't want."

"'Why don't you want to marry Leonard? He is a perfectly nice boy and-"

"And he's in love with Faye!" she exclaimed. "I guarantee you, he doesn't want to marry me either. He can't even look me in the eye without getting anxious."

"I know your uncle is making arrangements for Faye as well," he explained. "Her situation is a bit more complicated as he doesn't have a son, so she needs to marry someone he can trust his business and his safe house to."

"He can't trust Faye?"

"Let me rephrase that. He needs someone the townspeople will believe he can trust his business to. But this isn't about her."

"And what about Pascal?" she argued. "He is older than me and he's not married."

"Again, that is complicated," he answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "There is a shortage of girls his age in the circle. Adrien's had his eye on a few new people we could bring in and we might use his marriage to seal the deal. But we can't do that until we know we can trust them."

"We're all just tools to you, aren't we? Did you even love mother when you married her or were you forced into it like me?"

"I loved your mother and I was lucky I did." His voice lowered as he spoke. "I was lucky to fall in love with a girl who happened to be a strategic match. Unfortunately that can't be true for everyone. This is what is best for the circle. If you are as dedicated to it as you say, you will go through with this. Do you understand?"

Noelle did not answer, but sat back down on the bed, crossing her arms.

"Fine, you can sulk up here if you want, but when they come to discuss your courtship, you will show them respect. Is that clear?"

She turned her head away from him.

"I said, is that clear?"

Finally, she answered through a scowl. "Yes, father."

[-]

Noelle hadn't left her room since her fight with her father. She lay on her bed sideways, facing the wall. She stared, trying to imagine what her future might be like. She tried to picture a happy marriage, but that picture refused to come together in her mind. She liked Leonard just fine, but she never thought of him as a possible husband. Unless they were relaying messages between their fathers, they barely spoke to each other. Every conversation ended with an awkward pause. They simply didn't go together. And if they bothered asking what she wanted, she could have told them that.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock at her window. "Come in," she groaned, knowing it could only be one person.

Clopin climbed into her room and closed the shutters behind him. "Noelle, I heard from Gerard who said he heard from Marius and…is it true? Are you really getting married to Leonard?"

"If the patriarchal values that dictate our society have anything to say about it…" she answered, still staring at the wall.

"Is that a yes?"

"How should I know?" she spat, sitting up to face him. "I'm just a woman. I can't possibly decide for myself who I want to marry."

He sighed and sat down on the bed next to her. "So, you and Leonard?"

"Looks that way." She groaned and resting her head in her hands. "I thought only royalty got forced into marriage to strengthen alliances."

"Marriage… with Leonard…" He was still having trouble wrapping his head around it. "What about Faye? I thought they were in a romance for the ages."

"They were…" She flopped backward on the bed and covered her face with her hands. "How am I going to look Faye in the eye after I marry the man she loves?"

"You could always look at her eyebrows," he joked half-heartedly with a fragile smile. "It's close enough."

"This is going to ruin everything," she mumbled into her hands.

"I can't even picture it. You and Leonard…"

"I can," she huffed, sitting up. "I'm in for a lifetime of nervous muttering and awkward pauses. I wonder if our children will even learn speak. We have so little to say to each other, they'll think abject silence is the norm."

"Children… You'll have to…"

"With Leonard. Don't' even get me started on what that will be like. Uncomfortable, passionless, clumsy…" She stopped and cringed upon hearing her own words. "I'm being mean aren't I?"

"You're already critiquing his…performance, so I'll have to say so."

She sighed and tried to collect herself. "Leonard's a good man, he is. But it's just not… it won't work. He needs someone like Faye, not me. I need…"

"Someone charming, exciting, perhaps good with puppets…" Clopin said, leaning in toward her and turning her face toward his.

She smiled as their foreheads touched. She wanted to make the next move, to close the distance between them. Instead she pulled away. "We should have known this day would come. I'd have to marry eventually… You need to as well."

"But why now? Why to him?"

"Because our fathers arranged it without the slightest thought about what we would want." She jumped up, her anger overtaking her once again and began pacing. "Oh, wait, they asked _him._ They made sure he agreed to the match before telling me. I get no choice."

"Why would Leonard agree to it if he is in love with Faye?"

"He can't stand up to his father, you know that."

"You know, royalty often take lovers outside their arranged marriages," Clopin said, getting up from the bed and holding her by the shoulders. "Maybe, if you marry Leonard, it can just be for show. Then you and I can be lovers and he and Faye can be lovers. We'll just need to find Faye a husband who won't mind. Perhaps Gibbon, Rayna's fourth son. I hear he prefers the company of men. He can take a lover of his own and everybody wins."

"Until we're all found out and it becomes the scandal of the century." She pealed his hands off of her shoulders, but found she couldn't let go. "Besides, is that really what you want? We'd go home to other people every night. We'd never sleep beside each other or wake up together. If I had a child who looked just like you, he'd still have to call Leonard his father no matter what. Would you be content with that?"

His face fell with every word she spoke. "You paint a sad picture Carottes," he answered, looking away. "Are you really going to go through with this?"

She couldn't bring herself to say anything definite. She didn't want this. She couldn't imagine her life truly going that way. And yet, that was the way it was going now. She reached for his face and turned it back to her. "I'm not married yet. There's still time. Maybe it can still be stopped somehow."

Clopin made no response except to look at her with sad brown eyes. He took her fingers off of his cheek and kiss brush them against his lips.

Rouse's voice from downstairs interrupted them. "Noelle…"

Noelle tore her hand away at the sound of her father's call. "You should go. If I don't go down for supper, my father will just come up here." She rushed him toward her window. He turned back to her while crouched on sill. He puckered his lips to kiss her good bye. She stopped him by laying two fingers on his lips. "We can't do that anymore."

"What?" he asked, jerking his head back.

"I'm betrothed now. I can't…perhaps it might not happen, but if it does, it'll be easier to stop now."

"But…"

"Noelle…" her father called again.

She put her hands on the shutters and Clopin began his climb down the wall. "I'm sorry," she called to him in whisper. She then reached out and closed the shutters.


	10. Past 4(b): The Marriage Pact Pt 2

_Not half bad…_ Clopin nearly finished his puppet cart. He'd managed to cover the entire thing with red paint and was now working on the detailing. Occasionally, he'd think _wait until Noelle sees this_ , then he'd have to quickly reprimand himself. It'd been about a week since Noelle's pseudo-engagement and he still wasn't used to the idea. If she was to be a married lady soon, she probably wouldn't be able to visit him alone, not if she wanted to avoid talk of an affair. Sure, such rumors probably wouldn't make it outside of the Circle and maybe hit the gypsy population, but it would be enough to cause trouble, especially if it got back to Leonard's family. Besides, rumors like that tend to find their way around and that would put the Circle at risk. No, she couldn't visit. She'd never risk the inn for a silly puppet cart.

Everything would change now, he imagined. Noelle would have no time for him. She'd have a husband and possibly even kids. They might never see each other except for circle business. It'd be one thing if he knew she wanted this. If he knew she'd be happy, he'd probably be happy too, right? They were friends, weren't they? Friends who kissed occasionally -or maybe more than occasionally- but still just friends. It didn't mean anything. It was just a bit of fun, wasn't it? They both knew nothing real could come out of it. And if he'd ever fantasied about sharing her bed or spending his days with her or having a little baby with his dark hair and her bright blue eyes… Well, that was just a daydream and it meant nothing. But he supposed he should get used to the idea. They weren't children anymore. His own father would probably push for him to get married soon as well.

He dipped the brush into a pot of yellow paint and began carefully paining the trim when someone whispered his name behind him.

"Clopin?"

He turned his head just enough to see Leonard shifting nervously behind him. He rolled his eyes and returned to his painting. "Yes?" he asked curtly. It was strange. He'd never had any problem with Leonard before, but now he couldn't help but feel gnawing abhorrence in the pit of his stomach. _Stop being so bitter you fool. It's not his fault._

"You…" Leonard began, fidgeting with the hem of his tunic, "Noelle talks to you, right?"

"Yes, why?" his words remained clipped.

"It's just…" Leonard sighed and dropped his fidgeting hands, "she doesn't talk to me."

"And?"

"Can you tell me, how you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Get Noelle to talk to you."

Clopin exhaled, put the brush back in the pot of paint, and set it down. He could tell this wasn't going to be as brief a conversation as he would have liked. "There's no trick to it," he said, turning to Leonard. "We've been friends for all our lives."

"I know, but, she's my betrothed," he said pleadingly. "I need to talk to her."

"So do it."

"But she won't see me." He sighed and sat down on a nearby barrel. "Every time I've tried, she makes up some excuse. She tells me she has chores or she has a message to deliver..."

"What exactly do you want to talk to her about?"

"Anything," he explained. "Unless I'm delivering a message for my father, I can't talk to her. My mind goes blank. I can't think of anything to say."

"Well…" Clopin began, struggling to dig some advice out of his brain, "what do you talk about with Faye?"

"That's completely different." Leonard's face lit up and he gazed into the sky. "Talking to Faye is easy and comfortable. We understand each other. We can talk about anything." His face fell and he looked back at the ground. "Why couldn't my engagement be with her?"

An idea suddenly sprang to life in Clopin's mind. They might be able to stop this disaster of a marriage after all. He just needed to plant the thought in Leonard. "Of course, being in love with Faye, that would certainly make things easier, no?"

Leonard nodded slowly. "I told her about the marriage the other day. She cried. I've never made her cry before." He hid his face in his hands. "How am I going to go through with this?"

This was perfect. He didn't even need to convince Leonard this was a poor match. He forced down a growing grin. "I believe you and Noelle have finally found some common ground."

"Really?" Leonard looked up.

Clopin nodded, hoping his glee didn't show on his face. "She has her own reservations about the match."

"She does?" He sounded almost hopeful.

"I'm sure she'd like to talk to you about them."

Leonard looked hopeful for a minute, but then let out a disappointed sigh. "She'll bring them up when we meet with our fathers about the match, I'm sure."

"This may be a conversation best had in private." Clopin suggested.

"But our fathers…"

"Made this match without consulting either of you, as I understand," Clopin finished for him. "Is this truly what you want?"

Leonard looked off to the side, seeming to consider this. "She doesn't want to marry me either, does she?"

Clopin bit his lip to keep himself from grinning. All he needed was a little nudge… "If you want to know, you need to talk to her away from your fathers."

"Can you get a message to her?" Leonard asked, hopeful again. "Tell her I want to talk?"

Clopin finally let himself have a satisfied smile. "That, I can do."

"Thank you." Leonard began to walk away and Clopin went back to his painting. "Of course," Leonard continued, turning back to Clopin, "if she doesn't marry me, she'll be able to spend more time with you."

Clopin nearly dropped his brush. "Oh, I hadn't thought…"

"It's alright," Leonard gave him a knowing smile, "I understand."

[-]

Clopin climbed up the wall to Noelle's window. He knocked once on the shutters and heard her call him in. He climbed in and nearly kneed her in the head. She sat on her bed absentmindedly brushing her hair and scooched over when she realized she was blocking his entrance.

"Oh, sorry. We've got less room now than when we were kids."

His only reply was to plop down on the bed. He sat cross-legged, rested his face in his hand, and stared at her with a mischievous grin.

"What are you smirking at?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

"I just had the most interesting conversation about you."

She paused mid-brush stroke. "With who?"

"Your betrothed."

"Oh…" She relaxed again and continued brushing.

Clopin dropped his grin and put on a more sincere tone. "He's a bit worried you may not like him."

"What gave him that idea?"

"The fact that you haven't spoken a word to him since the engagement might be a clue."

"I just don't want my father to think I'm giving in." She put her brush aside and pulled her hair back to braid it. "It's nothing to do with him."

"Actually, I think it's everything to do with him," Clopin replied, getting a bit defensive. He could see her bullheaded ways clouding her judgement and it was his job to point that out. "Seems to me you're not the only one being forced into this match."

"You mean, he doesn't want to marry me?" she beamed.

He supposed he should have expected this reaction. "Try not to look so happy about it around him but, yes, that's what he implied."

"Hmm…" She continued braiding her hair as she considered this. "It really isn't Leonard's fault our father's made this deal. It's not fair to avoid him. I've been pretty mean."

"So you're going to talk to him?"

"Yes."

"Good," he slid off the bed and headed for the window, "because I'm not interested in being the go-between for your marital problems."

"Actually, can you give Leonard just one more message?"

He stopped and slouched on the window frame. "Ugh, did someone write 'messenger boy' on my back when I wasn't looking?"

"All you need to do is tell him I'll meet him in the alley behind his home tonight after supper. It's the last time, I swear."

"Alright," he conceded. "But only because it's you. I'll be deaf to any message requests after this."

"And Clopin?"

"What?" He groaned, stopping with one foot out the window.

"Merci." She smiled then, soft and genuine. It was a treasure few got to see.

Clopin smiled back as his unreasonable heart fluttered. _Stop it, you idiot. This doesn't mean we can marry her now,_ he scolded himself. His heart, in fact, did not stop as he watched her gracefully tie off her braid with a little black ribbon. _Still, she does look pretty like that._ "Mon Plaisir."

[-]

Noelle waited in the alley, the hood of her cloak pulled over her hair. Around the corner, Clopin waited and listened. He said he wanted to be there, that if he was going to be their go-between he at least wanted to see how things went. After a moment of waiting, Leonard slipped out the back door of his home and went up to Noelle.

"We'll have to be quiet," he said nervously. "My father won't be happy if he finds out we're meeting in secret like this."

"Let's make this quick then. This marriage won't work. You know it and I know it."

"Uh, right."

"Nothing against you," she went on. "I like you Leonard. You're a good man. But we're just not right for each other and in any case, Faye is in love with you. It would break her heart if we got married and I know you don't want that."

"Uh…I agree."

"So it's decided then? The engagement is off?"

He gaped at her, completely flabbergasted. His mouth opened and closed a few times as he searched for how to respond. "Um…I suppose…" he finally answered

"Good, glad we agree on that."

Leonard didn't have a response. He was still busy trying to figure out what had just happened.

"Well, that's settled. We'll tell our fathers together when we meet. Is there anything else you'd like to discuss?"

"I, um, I suppose not."

"Alright, have a good night Leonard."

Uh… goodnight."

She spun on her heals to leave while Leonard went back into his home still looking shell-shocked. Noelle marched back to Clopin. She did not miss the mix of reproach and alarm on his face.

"That had all of the tact and grace of an angry goat," he scolded.

"What?"

"You could have let him down a little easier."

"He didn't want to marry me, I didn't want to marry him," she answered matter-of-fact as she began walking. "I didn't see much point in dragging it out if we both wanted the same thing."

"Or rather, didn't want the same thing." He gave her a cheeky smirk.

"In any case, it's over with. We'll just have to deal with our fathers when we tell them, but they'll just have to accept that all their arranging was wasted. They can't force us to marry now, not if we both refuse."

[-]

A large, burly man stormed into the inn and marched up to the desk where Rousse sat going over his logs. The man slammed his hands on the desk to get the innkeeper's attention. "Orson?" Rousse asked, looking up from his books.

"Rousse," Orson growled back, "I need to talk to you now."

Rousse sighed and lead the seething man into his office. "Alright, alright what is this about?" he asked, once the door was closed.

"It's about your child's utter disregard for common decency."

"Oh no, was Pascal caught with a girl again?" Rousse groaned. "Whose daughter was it this time and what were they caught doing?"

"This isn't about your son sowing his wild oats," Orson snarled, "This is about your daughter."

"Okay," Rousse sighed, rubbing his eyes. "So who did she insult and what did she say?"

"My family, and she didn't need to say anything, not with her shameful behavior."

"Oh, I see," Rousse said, sitting down at his desk. "I've talked to her about her attitude, but she's a stubborn girl. I told you from the start it would take her some time to come around to the match."

"Stop playing dumb!" Orson snapped, slamming his hands on the desk. "This isn't about a sulking teenager! This is about your daughter and Adrien's son. My oldest saw them together."

"We raised them to be close friends. It's hardly surprising."

"Would you be surprised to learn what they did? Marius saw them come out of a gypsy cart together, just the two of them. He said that Noelle's hair was mussed and Clopin was adjusting his clothes."

Rousse's eyes narrowed. "What are you trying to say?

"That your daughter is a fornicator and an adulterer."

Rousse jumped up, his face contorted in anger. "How dare you! How dare you accuse my daughter!"

"My son saw it with his own eyes."

"Your son saw nothing! You have no proof of what actually happened."

"What else could they be doing?"

"Any number of things. For all you know, I told her to deliver a message for me."

"And how do you explain the hair and the clothes?"

Rousse scowled and crossed his arms. "I don't know, maybe they got wrinkled or there was a strong wind. Any number of things could have happened."

"Then why don't we find out for sure?" Orson challenged. "Get her down here. I want to hear it from her."

"If that's the way you want it, then fine, but I won't have you putting her on trial." He strode over to the door and put his hand on the pull. "Bring your sons here. I want to find out exactly what he thought he saw and what Leonard thinks of all of this."

Orson scowled and marched up to Rousse, getting close to his face. "Very well, we'll see what is to be done about the two of them. If she is guilty, I don't want a fornicator for a daughter in law."

Rousse said nothing in response. He only opened the door and glared as Orson stormed out. Once gone, Rousse slammed the door behind him.

[-]

"You're a liar!" Noelle shouted in Marius's face.

"I saw you with my own eyes," he retorted with a smug scowl.

"You saw the walls of a cart with your own eyes."

Pascal sat in the corner of his father's office, leaning his head in one hand and rubbing his temple. This was giving him a headache. They'd been going back and forth for a half hour and it was going nowhere. Their fathers would butt in occasionally, but it changed nothing. Neither side was willing to accept the other's version of events. And so, they argued about the same things over and over.

"You meet in secret and expect everyone to think it was perfectly innocent?" Marius snapped.

Noelle scowled and crossed her arms. "Everyone in the Circle meets in secret."

"There's a difference between relaying messages and sneaking into carts with men who aren't your betrothed." Orson cut in.

"We weren't even betrothed when that happened," Noelle retorted.

Marius jumped up and pointed an accusing finger at her. "So you admit it!"

"Admit what? That I talked with a friend?"

"What did you talk about?" Rousse asked her in a softer tone.

"He wanted to show me his puppet cart," Noelle explained, turning toward her father. "He's proud of it."

Marius let out a tsk and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure that's all he wanted to show you."

"Where is your son, Adrien?" Orson asked, turning his attention to the Gypsy King. "He should be here. This involves him as well."

"This is between your family and Rousse's," Adrien explained as calmly as he could. Though, by his expression, Pascal could tell that this argument was grating on him as well. "I'm only here because it concerns the future of the Circle. We don't need him here."

"That's horseshit," Orson spat. "Your son is the one who defiled my son's bride."

"Watch it," Adrien warned through gritted teeth.

Orson heeded no such warning. "You only want to protect him. That's how it's always been. No matter what mischief the two of them get up to, you shield them from their consequences."

"You mean my only son?" Arien growled, getting up from his chair. "The one who will lead my people when I'm gone? The one my wife almost died bringing into the world? You're damn right I'm going to protect him. If you think I'm going to let Frollo have my future, you know nothing about what it takes to keep the Circle going."

"Fine, you protect your family, while I will try to protect mine. Our reputation is in jeopardy thanks to those two."

"What jeopardy?" Rousse cut in. "Your own son is the one threatening to tarnish your name. It's only your pride you're trying to protect."

As Pascal listened, movement at the window caught his eye. Through the shutters, he could see a body lurking just outside. Someone was there, listening in on the argument, and no one else seemed to notice. Pascal silently thanked God that he was sitting next to the door, then got up to slip out.

He hurried through the common room, into the kitchen, and out the back door. Around the side of the building, he found Clopin leaning next to the window. His heart temporarily slowed down, but sped up once again when he saw Clopin's hand reach for the shutters.

"You don't want to go in there," Pascal whispered, running up to him.

"What is going on? Why's everyone yelling? I hear my name. My father's in there…"

"They're yelling about you and Noelle," Pascal explained in a hushed tone as he pulled Clopin away from the window. There was enough chaos going on tonight. If Clopin put in an appearance, he was worried there just might be a murder. Although, he wasn't sure who would be killing who.

"Why? We haven't done anything… lately…"

Pascal sighed. He wasn't quite sure himself what to make of the situation. He supposed he should muster up some protective anger toward Clopin who may or may not have deflowered his sister. But he simply couldn't. For one thing, he'd be the world's biggest hypocrite if he did. For another thing, he knew Clopin and Noelle well enough to know that if they did do something, it was a mutual decision. Clopin would never force himself on her and even if he did, he wouldn't be standing here with full possession of all his extremities right now. Since she could crawl, Noelle made her own decisions with little input from others, least of all from her older brother. "My sister says you did nothing and I believe her," he finally decided. "But when she broke off the engagement…"

"Damn it, I told her to be more graceful," Clopin said, snapping his fingers.

"It's not about that, or at least not completely, but never mind. The point is, this is a very bad time for you to show up around here. They think you're part of the reason she broke it off."

"What? I must go in. I need to tell them." Clopin tried to go to the window again, but Pascal blocked him.

"No. If you go in there, three angry fathers will tear you apart."

Clopin's eyes slid pensively to the side. "I need to at least talk to Noelle."

"Do it next time you see her," Pascal said, trying to usher Clopin away from the building, "but stay away from here."

Pascal watched Clopin walk off down the alley and around the building. He had an idea where Clopin might be going, but he didn't want to deal with that now. He had to get back before anyone noticed he was gone. Once he was back inside, not much had changed. Noelle and Marius were still in each other's faces while their fathers stood behind them glaring at each other and Leonard sat off the side nervously biting a nail. Pascal sighed and retook his seat in the corner as the others continued arguing.

"I was going to keep this quiet for my brother's sake," Marius rambled on, "but since you alone broke off the engagement…"

"You broke off the engagement?" Rousse asked, turning an eye on his daughter.

"You told him?" Noelle gasped, whirling around to Leonard who practically jumped.

"Not intentionally," he pleaded. "He pressed and he got it out of me."

Rousse took hold of Noelle's shoulder and turned her back to face him "You went behind our backs after we spent all that time planning."

"Planning what to do with our lives," Noelle argued, breaking away from her father's grasp. "You didn't even care what we wanted."

"You think the Circle would have survived if it depended on the whims of an unruly daughter?" Orson sneared.

"Leonard didn't want to marry me either." She turned to Leonard and pulled him out of his chair. "Leonard, tell them."

Leonard fidgeted with his hands and looked back and forth between his father and his brother. Finally, he sighed and dropped his head. "It's true father…"

"What?"

He slowly lifted his head. "I-I'm in love with Faye. I want to marry her."

"You coerced him," Marius snapped, rounding on Noelle.

"I did not!"

"It's the truth," Leonard insisted, stepping between them "I love Faye. I only agreed to the match because I thought I had no choice, but Noelle showed me I did."

"You incited rebellion in my son," Orson growled, stepping up to Noelle.

"Father, I was relieved when she came to me," Leonard explained again. "I'd been looking for her, wanting to talk to her about how to convince you that this was a poor match. I wanted to please you but I knew this marriage would be nothing but a sham. When Noelle broke it off completely, it felt like a weight had been lifted."

Marius shoved past his brother to get back in Noelle's face. "What have you been poisoning his mind with?"

"Are you insane?"

Leonard took his brother's shoulder. "Marius, I know I'm not the most outspoken in our family but is it really so hard to believe that I have opinions of my own?"

"Maybe it is true you never wanted her," he said, turning to Leonard. "I can see why. Who would want a shrew like her for a wife?"

"Turn around and say that to my face you coward," Noelle growled.

Marius smirked and turned back to her. "You're a shrew and a whore."

Noelle's glare darkened. "You really want to get slapped, don't you?"

"And a temper. Maybe I should tell the whole city. A few days in the stocks would-"

She slapped him so hard across the face that he stumbled back into the desk. Pascal had to bite his own tongue to keep from laughing.

"Rousse, your daughter is way out of line," Orson shouted.

"Your son is out of line," Adrien shot back, stepping between Rousse and Orson. "Threatening to tell the whole city... He'd put the Circle in danger."

Rousse grabbed Noelle's arm and pulled her aside. "Go up to your room," he ordered.

Noelle's mouth fell open. "Me? What about him? You heard what he said."

"Marius is not my child. You are. You will do as I say."

"I'm not a child," Noelle argued back. "According to you, I'm old enough to marry."

"Go now or I will drag you up there myself."

Noelle stood solidly still, glaring into her father's eyes. Her pride wouldn't allow her to jump when she was told, but she also knew being dragged away would be more humiliating. And so, after a minute-long stare down, she left, but not before casting a deathly glare at Marius.

[-]

Noelle swung her bedroom door open and found Clopin sitting on her window sill. She shouldn't have been surprised. With all that was going on, he must have heard somehow. She'd have called him crazy if he willingly joined the fray downstairs. It was a smart move waiting up here. At least she'd have someone to vent to. "I've been sent to my room like a child," she declared, slamming the door behind her. "Can you believe this?"

"What happened?" he asked as he slid off the window sill.

"Marius saw us together," she grumbled. "He thinks we're…" She trailed off. _Oh God, this is humiliating._

"What?"

"You know..."

"I don't..."

"Fucking, Clopin," she finally snapped. "They think we're fucking."

The color drained out of Clopin's face. "No, no, no…" He ran his hands though his hair and sat down on her bed. "How? Why?"

"Leonard told Marius about breaking off the engagement. Apparently, Marius decided that if I didn't want to marry Leonard, you must be the reason."

"Didn't you tell them the other reasons? About Faye or your inability to hold a conversation with each other?"

"Of course I did." She sat down next to him. "I even got Leonard to admit that he never wanted to marry me and really wanted to marry Faye. It didn't matter. They decided I was out of line, so they sent me up here."

"What made them think that?"

Noelle looked down and started nervously fidgeting with her fingers. "I may have… slapped Marius across the face, but he was asking for it. He was the one who called me a whore and threatened to tell the whole city."

"Tell…everyone…" Clopin groaned and flopped back on her bed.

"He won't. Your father put an end to that."

"Does my father think we…"

"No, he defended us. Although, who knows what's going on now? Perhaps they've decided to ship me off to convent…" She waited for Clopin to comment on that, but he said nothing, only glanced at her with sad eyes. "What, no jokes about my ineptitude as a nun?"

"I don't want you to be sent away," he whispered.

"I don't either," she said, leaning back on her pillow. "I don't believe father would really do it."

"Is the marriage back on?"

Noelle shook her head. "I don't think so. I think Leonard's family is too angry at my family to consider it."

"So what happens now?"

"I don't know. Hopefully not being branded as the town whore."

"Why you when there are real whores in the Beaubourg Quartier?" Clopin asked with a smirk. "You don't have nearly as much experience as those ladies."

Noelle raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Clopin yawned and tucked his hands behind his head. "Just stating facts."

"Facts, huh? No one down there is interested in hearing facts," Noelle spat, bitterly. "Marius is ready to hang a red lantern on my door any minute."

"If he does, I'll tear it down," Clopin declared with a cheeky grin.

Noelle felt her face flush. _That stupid grin…_ "He'd just hang another."

"I'll tear that one down as well."

"And if he has a third?"

"I'll stand guard outside your door every day of my life to protect you from Marius and his apparently endless supply of lanterns." His eyes flashed in that mischievous way that made her heart jump.

"How heroic," she replied, not entirely sarcastic. It really was sweet, the ridiculous lengths he claimed to go for her, even if such a situation would never happen.

"Anything for the virgin whore of Paris."

"There it is, my gimmick," she said, turning on her side. "I'm somehow a whore despite only ever kissing one man."

"Two," Clopin added, yawning.

"Huh?"

"Are you forgetting poor Ansel?"

"Oh, right," she answered, remembering the baker's son she kissed out of sheer competitiveness. "I only did it because you kissed Estella."

"Not true," he said lazily as he too rested his head at the foot of her bed. "Estella kissed me. It's my allure. I can't help it."

"Whatever you say." Noelle settled her face against her pillow. They day's events began to weigh on her and her eyelids grew unbearably heavy. Maybe she could close them, just for a minute. Just one minute, then she'd ask Clopin to leave so she could get some sleep. Just one minute…

[-]

Noelle awoke to see a pair of purple-clad ankles lying next to her and her heart jumped into her throat. "Oh no," she muttered. She sat up to see Clopin's full body spread across her bed as he slept on.

It was an accident. They weren't even sleeping with their heads at the same end. It was all perfectly innocent. Alright, maybe not _perfectly,_ but nothing happened. Not that anyone would believe that.

The gray light of the early dawn filled her room. She looked out the half-open window and saw the sun peak over the skyline. Hurriedly, she reached out and shook his ankle. He twitched lazily in his sleep, but didn't wake. "Clopin," she growled in a whisper, giving him a harder shake. Finally he sat up groggily and gave her a blank stare, not yet awake enough to comprehend the situation. "You've got to get out of here," she hissed, pointing sharply at the window.

"Merde!" He immediately snapped out of his daze and jumped off the bed. "Noelle, I'm…"

"Don't bother. It was an accident." She jumped up as well and began shoving him toward the window. "Just get out of here."

"But your father… the marriage..."

"Nothing we can do about it now." She practically pushed him out the window. "Go, before someone sees."

Clopin kept a good grip on the wall and climbed down as quickly as he could. When he was low enough, he jumped to the ground. However, after he landed, he looked up to see his father standing motionless and scowling. Clopin stood below his father's glare for what felt like ages. His father didn't move or speak, only shook slightly with barely-contained fury. _Maybe he's petrified. He's so angry, he's lost the ability to move. Maybe he'll never move again and if he doesn't… I'm not in any trouble._

"Father, I-"

Adrian put up a hand, silencing him. "Come." They walked silently back to Court. The whole way, Clopin rehearsed his explanation in his mind. He wondered if he should lie. The truth, after all, already sounded like a lie and a flimsy one at that. But, he decided it was best to stick to the truth this time. His father was already angry enough as it was.

Clopin waited until they made it back to court before he even tried to talk to his father. As he closed up the entrance behind him, he finally spoke up. "Father? Are you going to say anything? Father, I need to explain."

"Explain what?" Adrien growled without turning back. "I don't need you to explain. I have eyes."

"It wasn't what it looked like," Clopin insisted, frantically following his father.

"Of course…"

"It's true."

"True? It's-" Adrian halted and glanced around at the shadows. "All of you get out!" He shouted at the walls.

One of the look-out tentatively peaked out from his hiding place. "But-"

"I said out!"

The look-outs all jumped out of their hiding places and rushed back to the Court. They all knew better than to get in the way of their leader's wrath, especially if it was directed at his son. Clopin stared at the ground and felt them brush past. His stomach started tying itself in knots. His father never had any problem disciplining him in front of the Court before. _He's actually going to kill me this time._

"I don't think I've ever been angrier with you," Adrien said, finally turning to look his son in the eye. "Of all the nights, of all the girls-"

Clopin kept his head low. "It was an accident."

"I thought I taught you better than this," Adrien went on. "I thought I taught you to think! If that girl gets pregnant…"

"She can't get pregnant. We didn't do anything!" Clopin snapped. He could take his father's wrath but he wasn't about the let his father insinuate that he was stupid. "She's my friend. I went up there to talk. We fell asleep. That's all."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"It's the truth."

"Do you know what I was doing last night?" Adriien snapped. "Keeping our safe houses from crumbling. Orson was accusing you two of fornication and I spent the whole night telling him that he was crazy. I said you were good kids and you were too smart to do that. I didn't believe you could be so stupid. Seems I was wrong."

"Father, I-"

Adrien ignored the interruption and kept ranting. "I should have seen it coming. I knew you were spending too much time together. I should have put an end to it."

Clopin let out a humorless laugh as his own peril. "What would you have done? Forbade us from seeing each other? As if that would have stopped us."

Adrien cast a glare in his direction. "It is long past time you stopped socializing outside the inn. When you were children, it could be overlooked, but now it casts suspicion on us."

"We are not stupid enough to go gallivanting around the streets together. We're always careful to meet in secret."

"Yes, it is such a secret that Marius was able to find you by chance," Adreien scoffed. "You're lucky it was him and not a guard who saw the two of you together. You must stay away from that girl, do you understand me?"

"I will not!" Clopin protested. This was insane. They made a mistake, sure, but that was no reason to cut them off entirely.

"Rousse and I have already agreed on this," Adrien answered with chilling calm. "You will only meet when necessary. You two have grown too close. You need time apart."

"Was that not the plan?" Clopin argued. "Aren't we supposed to be friends like you and Rousse?"

"This is different. You've taken it too far."

"How far? Is there a limit? If so, I surpassed it long ago." Clopin's fists shook. Adrien's friendship with Rousse began the same way as Clopin's and Noelle's. They were raised to be close on purpose. How could they, after all those years, decide it was wrong? "You can't control how much of my heart I give to her. We've been through much already. We're strongest together and no one, not you, or Frollo, or anyone else, can tear us apart."

Adrien rolled his eyes and began to walk away. "Next you'll tell me you love her."

"What's wrong with that?" Clopin grumbled.

Adrien stopped in his tracks and whirled around. "What?"

Clopin looked up, his voice gaining confidence. "I said, what's wrong with that."

"You're barely more than a child," Adrien scoffed as he turned to walk away again. "What do you know of love?"

Clopin marched up to his father and caught him by the shoulder. "You disapprove. Why? Because she's not a gypsy?"

"Exactly," Adrien said, smacking his hand away, "she's not a gypsy. She's a Frenchwoman who was born into the Circle. Her safety, her family's safety, and our people's safety depend on that fact remaining a secret."

"It can remain a secret."

"No it can't. These things have a way of getting out, as you've already seen."

"But that isn't the truth."

"Oh really?" Adrien sneered. "What is the truth? You don't seem to know yourself. One minute you swear you're nothing more than friends. The next you proclaim your undying love for her."

"What do you want me to say, father?" Clopin shouted. "That I fucked Noelle? That I had her every way a man can have a woman. That-"

His father slapped him solidly across the face. "You…" he took ahold of Clopin's tunic. "I know your mother and I taught you better. Have you ever heard me speak of your mother that way?" Clopin weakly shook his head. "Would you tolerate anyone else speaking of Noelle that way?"

"No…"

"So why do you?" Adrien dropped his tunic. "If you love her as you so claim, you would never even think to say it. If you learn nothing else from last night, learn this. There is no love without respect. I never want to hear such filth come out of your mouth again."

Clopin looked down, ashamed of his words. He let his mouth get away from him for the sole purpose of scandalizing his father. "I am sorry father," he answered, setting his pride aside for the moment. "But Marius is still wrong about what he thought happened in my cart."

"What did happen, then?"

Clopin let out a ragged breath. "We kissed, alright? She kissed me and I kissed her."

"The first time?"

"No."

"When was the first time?"

"I was fourteen…"

Adrien tsked bitterly and shook his head. "Three years, three years you've been going behind my back."

"It was just some fun, at first."

"And what is it now?"

"A lot of fun…" The hint of a smile crept its way onto the corner of his lips, but he forced it back down. "We still never did anything more than kiss, I swear."

"Mmmhmm…" Adrien mumbled as he crossed his arms and furrowed his brows. He thought it was a lie. Clopin could see that.

 _Goddamn it! What will it take?_ "You still don't believe me," Clopin huffed. "How can I convince you?"

Adrien went still and his eyes drifted to the left as he thought. He got a look on his face, a look Clopin was very familiar with. The look like he was about to win. "Tell me something true," Adrien said.

"I have."

"Not about this. Tell me the truth of something else you've lied about."

"Like what?" Clopin asked. His father was fishing for something specific, but they'd be here for years before he guessed what.

Adrien looked him dead in the eye and asked, "How did Noelle really get that cut on her hand?"

Clopin felt his breath leave him. That cut, that damn cut. He tried so hard to forget that day, but he never could. He hated that day and everything to do with it. He hated the witch who lured them into her trap. He hated the man who spoke so calmly about their disgusting plans. He hated the monster who put his filthy hands on Noelle, and he hated that he now knew exactly why that man looked at her that way. And that cut. He hated that cut and the fact that he had to give it to her. It was necessary. He knew it then and he knows it now. But would his father believe that?

Finally, Clopin looked down and said, "I put it there."

"Why?"

"I was trying to protect her," Clopin answered, eyes still on the ground.

"From what?" Adrien studied his son's face as Clopin remained silent. "You won't tell me?"

"I can't."

Adrien kept his gaze fixed on Clopin. "Still protecting her…" He reached out and laid a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "Come, your mother will be worried." With that, he turned and began back down the corridor, leaving Clopin confused behind him.

"Do you believe me now, father?" He asked. He wasn't sure what his father made of that story. Did he approve? Disapprove? Disapprove but understand?

His father gave no answer. "This discussion is over, Clopin," he said, turning around. "Regardless of what happened in your cart, you still spent the night in a young woman's bedroom. If anyone else saw you climbing out of that window, you could have put the whole Circle in jeopardy. Fortunately, it was only me. However, my agreement with Rousse still stands. You and Noelle will spend some time apart. Not forever, but you can't go on as you have. Is that clear? I said is that clear."

"….yes…"

Adrian gave a curt nod and turned. Clopin watched him walk down the corridor. Maybe they'll spend some time apart. Maybe a week or two to appease their fathers. But it most certainly would not be forever. He'd make sure of that. The whole world it seemed told them they couldn't be together, but the whole world just happened to be wrong.

[-]

As Adrien walked down the street a few days later, he felt someone following him. He tried to use his peripheral vision to look for anyone suspicious, but couldn't find anything out of the ordinary. He stepped into an alley and led the presence through a maze of backstreets. Once he led it to a secluded area, he put his hand on the hilt of his dagger and turned sharply around to find his stalker was merely a red-headed teenage girl.

"Noelle," he said, sliding his dagger back into its scabbard, "don't sneak up on me like that. I might have killed you."

"I needed to talk to you," she said, seemingly unfazed.

"Is it a message from your father?"

"No from me," she answered, stepping closer to him. "I know you saw Clopin climbing out my window that morning. I need to tell you that nothing happened. We accidently fell asleep. That's all."

Oh, this. He should have known. "That's what he claimed."

"It's the truth," she insisted.

"He claimed that as well."

"Did you believe him?"

Adrein let his eyes slide off to the side. Did he believe? He was still mulling that over himself. He remembered being a young man very well. He knew what went on in teenagers' heads. He recognized the little glances and smiles those two gave each other over the last few years and was always worried something might spark between them if it hadn't already. Clopin himself admitted to them meeting up in secret. He claimed nothing more than kissing, but Adrien didn't quite believe that.

"You didn't tell my father," Noelle said, having grown impatient with his silence. "You tell him everything."

"I don't tell him everything."

"You've told him everything you caught us doing in the past," she argued.

"This goes beyond childhood mischief. Rousse is a good friend of mine. I'd like him to remain my friend. I don't think that could happen if he killed my son."

Noelle nodded and glanced off to the side. "My father forbade me from seeing him. He said you told Clopin the same."

"I did."

"It won't work. I told my father that as well."

Adrien let out a humorless chuckle and shook his head. "You are playing with fire. There is no one who plays with fire who doesn't get burned. You and Clopin need to learn restraint."

"We're not going to do anything stupid."

"Ha," he scoffed. "What do you call the other night?"

"It was a mistake."

"Mistakes like that can't happen, especially when all you can come up with is a flimsy excuse."

"I told you it's the truth."

"The truth?" he began, then paused as he spotted the scar on her palm. This may be his chance to get the full story on what happened with the kidnappers in the woods. He bit back his reprimand and switched to a cooler tone. "Alright, want to convince me of the truth? Tell me about the scar on your hand. I don't believe that the blood you had on your dress was from a simple cut."

"Everything we told you about the kidnappers is true," she said, her voice growing soft and grim. "They really did chase us through the woods and we really did try to hide in a bush. The woman pulled me out and Clopin tried to keep ahold on my hand. She had her arm around my neck and was choking me." Her hand went to her throat, as if she felt the phantom arm still around it. "Clopin had a knife but she had me as a shield. He couldn't get to her, so he put the knife in my hand. I twisted around and stabbed her in the gut. She let me go. After that, we really did climb a tree and watch one of the men cut her throat. We tried to wash off in the river, but her blood had already stained my dress. The cut was to make an excuse for the blood."

Adrien responded with a curt nod. He wasn't surprised. In fact, it was what he suspected. "So you cut yourself?" he asked, already knowing the answer.

She cast her eyes to the floor and stayed silent just as Clopin did. _Protecting him now,_ he thought. "Won't tell me?" he pressed. She stayed silent _._ "Clopin already told me he cut you, but he refused to say why, just as you refused to name him."

"I want to protect him. He wants to protect me."

Adrien scoffed at that. "In this world? You can try." Noelle's face hardened into a stony expression. _Damn youths, think they're invincible._

Noelle glared at him, indignant. "I've said all I wanted to say. Believe us or don't, but we're friends and you won't stop up from seeing each other."

"Friends? Is that all you are?"

Noelle's face faltered. She bit her bottom lip and looked off to the side. He didn't need an answer. Her silence told him everything.

''You can't marry him. You know this," he said matter-of-fact.

Noelle nodded, eyes still cast downward "We know, but while we still can…"

"This could ruin you, the both of you."

The girl let out a breath and looked him in the eyes. "We both know we'll have to stop someday. We'll be ready when the time comes."

 _It's almost sad, really. She looks so sure of herself._ "No, you will never be ready," he answered, staring her back in the face. He turned and walked away without waiting for a response.

He could imagine everything she might try to say. She'd argue that they knew what they were doing, that they could stop whenever they needed to, that it wouldn't get in the way of their duties. She'd be wrong, of course. That was youth talking; youth and inexperience. The two of them were tampering with forces much stronger than they realized. He feared they'd have to learn the hard way. _They really do love each other, or at least they think they do. The poor fools. They have no idea what they're getting into._


	11. Present 5: The Search

Dusk fell, the evening shift change came, and they had an hour. The gypsies had an hour to make it back to the Court, and Noelle had an hour to rid the inn of any gypsy artifacts left behind. Noelle's insides twisted themselves together in knots as she combed through each room. The gypsies were gone. She couldn't do anything more to help. Whatever happened to them now was out of her hands and lord knew when she'd get word if they returned safely or not. In the inn's entire history, they never, to her knowledge, had to turn someone away. Well, there was a first time for everything she supposed.

Her guests were careful about not leaving a trace behind. She only found a small basket's worth of forgotten gypsy artifacts. She took the basket to the fireplace in the common room and stoked the fire until burned bright and hot. It was the only way.

One by one she tossed the items onto the fire. A scarf here, a talisman there; she watched them all turn to ash. Her hands brushed a tiny rag doll and she paused. This thing, this poor, tattered, well-loved thing. Just another innocent caught in the hellfire Paris had become. She wondered about the child it belonged to. Was there a way to give it back? Would Frollo believe it belonged to a guest who left long ago? Or even that it was hers when she was a girl? No, it was too risky. If there was even the slightest chance Frollo could make a connection to gypsies, it was too dangerous. She squeezed her eyes shut and tossed it into the fire.

"You'll burn that too?"

She heard the painfully familiar voice behind her. "Clopin?" She turned her head and there he was, the last person she wanted in her inn tonight. "You shouldn't be here."

"What happened?" He asked. He sounded half way between sympathetic and angry. "Of all our safe houses, I never thought you'd be one to turn people away."

Noelle turned back to her fire and continued throwing items in. "Did they make it back?"

"Yes," he sounded bitter. "They told me you made them leave."

"I had to." She threw the last of the artifacts into the fire. "It's not safe here anymore. Didn't you talk to Gerard?"

"I did."

"Then you should know why I did it." He had to understand. Better than anyone, he had to. "Brice threatened to bring Frollo here tonight. Even if he was bluffing, I won't gamble with their lives. I won't gamble with yours either. You need to leave."

He sat down with her at the fire's edge. With a gentle hand, he turned her face toward him. Watching his face, she could see now that he was angry. He was angry at Frollo, at the circumstances, at the world which allowed for such horrible things to happen, but not at her. He understood, but he was angry that he had to.

He took up her hands and brushed her fingers against his lips. "I need you to take them back."

Noelle tore her hands away. "What?" She got up and stepped back. No, he couldn't be serious. Her inn was about to be overrun with soldiers and he wanted her to take them back?

"The Court is overcrowded as it is," he said, following her. "I'm not sure we can take any more."

"I told you it's not safe. Frollo…"

"Frollo will do his search. He'll come up with nothing," he argued. "Once you're no longer a suspect, you'll take them back."

"That's not…"

"Noelle…" He gathered her in his arms. Damn him. Was this intentional? He must know her weaknesses by now. It was just part of a manipulation. He played everyone else like a fiddle. Why not her?

She steeled her heart against him and pulled away. "I can't. It's too risky. Even if he doesn't find an excuse to arrest me tonight, he'll be watching me."

"Everyone's gone. He won't find anything. You've burned the evidence. He'll have no reason to suspect you."

"Clopin…" She didn't know what more to say. Why didn't he hear her? The inn wasn't safe for anyone anymore, least of all him. He needed to leave. Didn't he understand that? Frollo was coming. She might go down tonight, but she refused to take him down with her.

She touched her fingers to her chest. Beneath her blouse, she felt something round and metal. It was a little piece of him. She carried it with her always, but she had to give it up tonight. It was too dangerous. She couldn't keep him anymore.

She reached into her collar and ran her fingers along the leather strand around her neck until it revealed a gold hoop dangling from the end. For years she kept it close to her heart, but it couldn't bring her comfort now. She pulled on the hoop, breaking the string on the back of her neck, and held it out to Clopin. "Take this."

He reacted as if she touched him with a red-hot poker. "I will not!" he shouted, jumping back.

"I can't burn it, so you need to take it."

"You would burn this if you could?" he snarled. "Does it mean nothing to you?"

"We both knew it had no basis in reality."

He looked shocked and wounded, like she just slapped him. "That this meant nothing has no basis in reality!"

"I never said it meant nothing!" she snapped. Her temper flared now. How dare he? How dare he insinuate that she didn't care? She would kill for him, die for him. Didn't he know that? Didn't he know how far she'd go? This wasn't about love. This was about survival. "If Frollo arrests me because of sentiment, I'll be no good to anyone."

His eyes widened at the thought. She knew he was imagining Frollo getting his hands on her. She could tell by the horror on his face. But she could see something else as well. She could see the dark circles and the thin lines of red creeping toward his irises. She could see the light that made his eyes flash with mischief had grown dull. She could see the many hours, probably days it'd been since he last slept. He'd understand. If he had the chance to rest and get his head on straight, he would understand.

She softened and laid a hand on his cheek. "Hold it for me, please. Not forever. I expect it back, understand?"

"But-"

She placed the gold hoop in his hands and curled his fingers around. It. "I remember," she said cupping her hands over his. "I don't need a piece of jewelry to remind me of the promise we made."

A loud clamoring outside broke them apart. Noelle rushed to the door and looked through a hidden slit. She could see a group of soldiers coming up the street with Frollo leading them on horseback. "They're coming," she whispered, shutting the slit. "Quickly." She rushed to the bookcase with Clopin on her heels and took out one book. Behind it was what looked like an ordinary knot in the wood. She stuck her finger in and yanked pulling out a small panel which hid a keyhole. She used her keys to unlock he hidden door and pulled open the bookcase, revealing a small hiding place. Clopin grimaced but stepped in anyway. He hated hiding in that tiny space but it was the most secure spot in the inn and right now he had no choice.

She just managed to close and lock the bookcase again when the soldiers pounded on the door. "Just a minute," she called, replacing the book back on the shelf. Before she could open the door, the soldiers burst in.

[-]

"Mademoiselle Janvier, I see you're up late," Clopin heard Frollo sneer.

Pure, undiluted loathing crept through Clopin's skin as soon as he heard that voice. It was almost instinctual. He hated that man more than anything and anyone in the world. He cultivated this hate for years like a delicate flower. It was his right. After everything this man did to his people, he was entitled to this hate.

"I was going over the finances," Noelle said.

"Women shouldn't be concerned with such work."

"My brother hardly left me a choice," Noelle said, her voice firm but still respectful. "May I ask why you're here?"

"One of my lieutenants suspects that you're hiding gypsies," Frollo answered in his usual voice, the kind which would accuse even the Holy Mother of being sinful.

"Is that so?" Noelle was able to keep remarkably calm. He imagined her standing before Frollo, surrounded by guards but still with a straight back and eyes like ice.

"You don't seem troubled by this accusation," Frollo observed.

"Because it is untrue." Noelle's cool certainty still sounded genuine. "I have no reason to be worried. I have nothing to hide."

"Then you shouldn't mind if we search the inn."

Noelle paused, clearly choosing the right words. Every second of that pause was agonizing. The longer she took to answer, the guiltier she'd seem, but still, words could not be spoken lightly here. Finally she responded with, "I'd rather you didn't make a mess of the place, but do what you must."

"Very well," Frollo said. His sneer was almost audible. "Lieutenant."

He heard Noelle gasp and the clink of shackles being fastened. No! What was this? They were arresting her already? They hadn't even begun the search. They were going to take her? Take her and leave him trapped here?

"What is the meaning of this?" Noelle demanded.

He didn't hear a scuffle. She was still here at least. They weren't taking her yet.

"I'm afraid it's necessary. My men tell me you have a history of violence when protecting your inn."

What was he talking about? She'd always been careful to control her temper around the guards. Was he referring to those times she chased perverts away for grabbing her serving girls? She was being punished for protecting people? He supposed he shouldn't be shocked. Well, what else was new? That's what was happening right now, wasn't it?

Clangs and clambers sounded around him. So, the soldiers began their search. He held a hand over his mouth, afraid that even the slightest hint of breath would alert them to his position. The noise surrounded him and he tried to stay still at each new sound. He imagined beds overturning above him, the shelves in her office being knocked down on his one side, and the common room being turned upside down on the other. He stood in the center of the chaos, concealed by a false wall. If the somehow found him…

As he listened to them tear apart the inn, he couldn't help but wonder which fate would be worse: being discovered by Frollo, or Noelle being arrested leaving him to die alone in this wall. _Wait, Frollo's begun burning down the homes and business of those he's deemed guilty. Yes, burning alive while being trapped in a wall would be the worst one._

Clopin squeezed his fist and felt a prick in his palm. He opened his hand to see the gold hoop. It was a small mercy that he just happened to hold it when he jumped into his hiding place. It was obviously Romani jewelry. If Frollo found this on her, it would be enough to condemn her. He gave it to her years ago, a small token of affection. All this time, she wore it close to her heart. She was right. It was dangerous now. His gift of love could cost her her life.

The sounds of the search slowed and Clopin's heart rate slowed with them. Did this mean they were done? If it did, they didn't discover him. But he couldn't let himself hope yet. This wasn't over. They still might have found something to convict her with. He couldn't be at ease until Frollo was gone.

"What did you find?" Frollo asked as his men returned to the common room.

Clopin's breath caught in his throat as he waited for their answer.

"Nothing out of the ordinary," one of the guards said.

Clopin let out his breath as silently as possible.

"There was a mattress in the office," added another.

No, could they make something of that?

"How do you explain this?" Frollo inquired.

"It's a spare," Noelle answered in as mundane a voice as she could muster. "I usually keep it in storage, but I've been sleeping in my office as of late. It's closer to everything I need and I'm afraid I've grown lazy without customers."

"Is that the only thing you found unusual?" Frollo asked, presumably to his guards. He almost sounded disappointed. What a pity.

"That's all, sir," The first guard answered.

There was another seemingly endless pause as Frollo contemplated his next move. Clopin would feel his palms sweat through his gloves, but he still kept frozen with one hand covering his mouth. He was terrified that the slightest motion or sound could draw suspicion. He waited and listened to the agonizingly empty air. Finally, Frollo broke the silence.

"Very well," the judge droned. "Lieutenant, release her." He sounded reluctant, like he didn't want to concede losing a game. But he had. He lost. They won. It was a small victory but it was all Clopin had to grasp onto for weeks.

He heard the shackles being released and the knot in his stomach began to loosen. Noelle was not being arrested. Clopin was not going to die in this wall. That was something.

"Let this be lesson to you," Frollo went on. "If you showed my men more respect, this may not have been necessary."

Clopin could only imagine the contempt in her eyes. He suspected it might match his own.

"Will that be all?" Noelle said.

"Yes," Frollo replied. The soldiers began to march out and he let himself breath at an easier pace. This was done. It was almost over.

"Good," Noelle answered. Clopin heard her mutter something that he couldn't make out. She then let out a cry and he heard her crash against something hard before crumbling to the ground.

It was enough to make his blood boil. How dare they? How dare they put their hands on her? He wanted to burst out of this wall, to tear Frollo and his men limb from limb. Yet he could do nothing. He was only a few feet away, but he was helpless. He couldn't protect her. He couldn't protect his people. What was the point of being a king if he could do nothing but hide when his people were attacked?

"Do you refuse to learn respect, woman?" Frollo thundered. "You brought this upon yourself. Further insolence will not be ignored. You may be safe for now as I cannot prove you have broken the law, but I will be watching you. If I have any reason to suspect you again, you will find no mercy."

Clopin heard the last of Frollo and his soldiers leave and slam the door. He waited. There was some quiet shuffling. He heard her let out a pained groan as she got up. He listened to her taking out the book and undoing the lock.

Noelle opened the door and he felt he could breathe again. She looked pale as a ghost and she had a cut on her forehead above her right eye. He stepped out to see that the soldiers left the inn completely wrecked. The tables and chairs in the common room were all flipped on their sides. Books were knocked off of shelves. Through the ajar kitchen door, he could see shards of broken cups and plates scattered on the ground.

"I don't know why they had to do all this," she grumbled, scowling at the scene. "It's not like I could hide people on bookshelves. I'm not even ready to look at what they did to my office."

"They hurt you," Clopin growled, reaching for her face.

She stepped back and turned away. "It's nothing."

"What did they do to you?"

"As they were leaving, I muttered something about having to clean up the damage they did. Frollo heard and one of his guards threw me into the desk. I hit my head off the corner as I went down. I supposed they thought I should have been honored that they ransacked my inn." She reached for the cut on her forehead and hissed when she touched it. "It was stupid. I should have just kept my mouth shut."

It was a rare moment when Clopin struggled for words. He wanted to say something, but everything he came up with sounded trite. _They shouldn't have hurt you. They had not right to touch you. They're all cowards._ He didn't need to say any of it. It was all obvious. Nothing they didn't already know. "Noelle…"

She crossed to the window and peaked out the shutters. "It's probably not safe to travel tonight. You should stay and head back during the morning shift change."

She was talking business now? After Frollo was here? After they narrowly escaped capture? _After they hurt her…_ "Noelle…"

"You can have any room you like. Whichever one is the least wrecked."

He had to admit, there was one room he wished he could stay in again. It'd been years and he missed it, but there were more important things to take care of tonight. "Noelle…"

"What is it?"

He went to her and took her hand. "They hurt you," he said, brushing her hair away from the cut.

She touched her hand to her forehead and wiped away some blood with her finger. "I'll be fine."

"You're bleeding."

"You're shaking."

"So are you."

She squeezed his hand but looked away. "I'll take care of it later."

"Let me," he said, gently turning her face toward him.

She looked up at him. Tears brimmed on her eyes, but she wiped them away with the heel of her palm. "Don't worry about it. I can take care of myself."

"Don't you think I know that?" he said with a light laugh. The sound reminded him of his mother, of times when he was a boy and she dried his tears. "Let me do this."

"Clopin…"

"Please." He took both of her hands and brought them up to his chest. "I need to know I can still help somebody."

Her eyes misted over again. She blinked back the tears, but she did not try to wipe them away. He felt the muscles in her arms tense and she leaned towards him ever so slightly. He'd known her long enough to know what she wanted. She wanted to close the gap between them. She wanted to hold him close and listen to his heart like she used to. But she hesitated. She always hesitated now. She was cautious, she had to be. He wanted this to pull her in and let her know he wanted this too, yet couldn't bring himself to do it either.

God, how long had it been? They called themselves friends and he supposed that was still true, but they were something more once. They were whirlwind lovers, an epic romance. He fancied their love story the kind which would be told and retold for generations. No one would say that of them now, struggling to move past a simple handhold. When had that changed? When did they become more business than pleasure?

Finally, she settled for running her thumb along his fingers. "Alright," she said. She led him by the hand past the front desk, past the overturned tables and chairs, past her office where he knew she kept some basic medical supplies. She took him to the stairs and he followed her up to her bedroom. For the first time in years, she invited him in.


	12. Past 5a: Inheritance Pt 1

Past 5a: Inheritance (Part 1)

 _I should be out there,_ Clopin thought. He was nineteen now. He was getting old enough to take over the Court. He was already helping his father lead and make decisions. He oversaw a few arrivals by himself. Departures, though, were much more difficult and his father didn't think he was ready to handle those on his own yet. He was allowed to be there, act as a lookout and assist in any way he could, but he hadn't been allowed to lead one yet.

His father was leading a particularly tricky one tonight. A fourteen year old boy foolishly fell in love with a guard's daughter. The girl welcomed his affections, but her father caught them together. The boy managed to evade the guard, but the hunt was on with the father accusing the boy of breaking into his house to rape his daughter. The boy hid out in Rayna's tavern for a few days while they arranged a boat. All that was left was to smuggle the boy out of the city.

Clopin was supposed to go tonight. He should be out there learning how to protect his people. But his mother fell ill that day and his father told him to stay behind to care for her. On an intellectual level, he understood why he must stay behind. Sure, he had aunts and cousins who could help, but illness was always hard on her. It left her bedridden and she always seemed to recover quicker when she had the comfort of her husband or son. But still, he couldn't help feeling a little bitter for being here rather than helping his father lead. And he couldn't help feeling guilty for feeling this way.

His mother was sleeping now. The healer said her fever was breaking, but she still needed plenty of rest. Clopin sat off to the side and quietly plucked at a lute. He needed something to keep his hands busy. He never did well with waiting quietly, especially on a night like this.

He noted a shift in the sounds outside the tent. General nighttime chatter suddenly became centralized around one subject. He suspected his father and the group who smuggled the boy out of the city returned. What worried him, however, was the change in mood. A somber tone took hold of the air and he wondered what it could mean. Was the boy found before they could smuggle him out? Was someone else captured in the process? Whatever it was, his father was sure to be in a dour mood for a long time. The loss of children always got to him.

Clopin put aside his lute and stepped out to see what the matter was. He saw the group of men who went out with his father coming toward him. People parted for them as they passed. But one person was missing. His Uncle Solomon led the group, holding Adrien's hat in his hands. Clopin's stomach dropped and his body went cold.

Solomon handed him the hat without saying a word. It wasn't needed. They both knew what this meant.

"My father… is he…?" He couldn't finish.

"Frollo was doing his rounds tonight," Solomon explained. "He and some of his guards came upon us. Your father knew he was the bigger prize, so he lured them away while we got the boy on the boat."

"So, my father is alive?"

Solomon nodded. "And Frollo's most guarded prisoner. I'm afraid rescue isn't possible."

Clopin twisted the fabric in his hands. So, that was it, then? They were already counting Adrien as dead. It was only a matter of time now. Frollo had been after his father for years, determined to prove some sort of crime. Well, the day was finally here.

"Is something wrong?" He turned to see his mother coming out of the tent. She looked from Solomon to Clopin and her eyes landed on the hat in her son's hands. She knew. He could tell by the way her face fell that she knew. Still, she asked "Where is Adrien?"

Clopin looked to Solomon who only gave him a firm nod which was identical to his father's. He knew what this meant as well. He was her son and now he was king. Telling her was his responsibility.

"Come inside, mother," he said, letting her lean on him. She was still weak from the fever and couldn't stand for long. "I'll tell you everything."

[-]

Evading Frollo's guards was one of Clopin's most prized talents and he needed it tonight. Anyone lurking around the Palace of Justice late at night would be suspicious, and as the son of the notorious gypsy king, the danger was more than doubled for him.

Still, he just had to. He needed to see his father one last time. He needed parting wisdom or a final message. He hoped for one last conversation as father and son. He didn't care about the danger or that his father would berate him as soon as he got there. He didn't want his last memory of his father to be seeing him hanging from a noose.

The moonless sky provided him with a dark cover. Small slivers of bared windows allowed prisoners to see out into the world. It was a small mercy that Clopin was able to find his father's quickly. He tucked himself against the stone wall, letting the shadows conceal him. "Father?" he whispered.

"Clopin?" His father's whisper came gruff from the inside. "This is dangerous."

"I know."

"So why are you here?"

"I just…" _Can't lead without you? Don't know what to do? Am hoping for a miracle?_ "I needed to see you…"

His father let out a long, weary sigh. "How is your mother?"

"She's…"

"And don't lie to me, boy," he snapped.

"She's very weak," Clopin admitted after a moment's hesitation. "Her illness has gotten worse since hearing the news."

"You take care of her. If I see her on the other side within a year, there will be hell to pay. Do you understand?"

"Yes father…." Clopin whispered, the corner of his lip tugging into a smile. "Everyone's acting like you're already dead. Is there nothing we can do?"

Adrien chuckled bitterly. "Frollo has been after me for longer than you've been alive. Now that he has me, he won't squander his chance to take out the gypsy king."

Clopin's insides twisted. "Father, I can't…" he rushed out in a panic. "What will I do without you?"

"You will lead," he said firmly. "Listen to me, Clopin. You are my son. Everything I did for you, I did for a reason. I kept you fed and healthy. I protected you, some might even say too much. I taught you how to plan, how to think on your feet, how to make and keep allies. I showed you what a leader looks like. I did it all so that you could step up when the time came."

Clopin swallowed hard. "I'm not ready."

"Neither was I, but I learned. You will learn."

Clopin bit his lip and tried to will the tears back. He heard the heavy footfalls of a man covered in armor. "The guard is coming," he whispered. It wasn't fair. Not now. Not when there was so much more to say. But it was so. Their time was up.

He wanted to say it. He wanted to say the words that were never said, but understood. They caught in his throat. Even now, when he was running out of time, when this was his last chance, his voice failed him.

"What are you waiting for?" His father snapped. "Go."

Clopin remained frozen to his spot. His heart beat as the soldier's footsteps drew closer. He had to say it. It was now or never. "Father…" he choked out. "I…" Damn it! The words still wouldn't come. They stuck in the back of his throat where they were useless.

"I said go," Adrien commanded.

The guard was nearly there. He'd lost his chance. Without another word, he climbed over the wall and disappeared into the night, his unsaid words still haunting his thoughts.

[-]

His mother insisted on coming. Everyone told her not to go. She was still weak and they were unsure how much heartache she could take. Still, she refused to hide underground while her husband faced the noose. Clopin held her close and let her lean on him. As soon as it was over, he'd take her home. She didn't need to linger to watch her husband's body dangle in the wind.

Clopin could hardly look at the scaffolding. His father's face was as proud and stoic as ever, despite his circumstances. A sentry announced the charges and sentence, but Clopin barely heard them. Whatever they were, he knew they were false. His father's only true crime was doing whatever it took to protect his people. Nothing else mattered.

Across the crowd stood Rousse with Pascal and Noelle. Pascal fidgeted with his hands while his eyes looked anywhere but at the gallows. Noelle tried to keep her face impassive, but soon looked down and chewed on her lip. Rousse was the only one able to keep his eyes trained straight ahead. On his face, he wore a look of apathy, but his shaking hands gave him away to anyone who might be looking.

A drumroll started and his heart jumped into his throat. Already? His mind was torn between wanting to be over with and never wanting it to end. He forced himself to look, to show his father one last time that that he was no coward.

They pulled the leaver. The trap door opened. Clopin caught one glimpse of his father's falling body before he looked away.

[-]

Noelle lay awake that night. She wasn't sure if it was the heat, or the day's events. Most likely, it was the gaping hole in the world. He was Clopin's father, Rousse's best friend, but to her… what he was didn't have a name. She supposed he was a kind of gruff uncle, one who could scare many others with a sharp glare and a harsh word, but not her. He never scared her. Sure, there were times in her childhood where she and Clopin hid some mischief out of fear of punishment, but she never feared him.

As she lay there, staring at the ceiling, she heard a tap at her window. Odd, her window was open. Another tap came, this time she could tell it was the wall near her window. She started to get up to see what was going on, when a pebble flew in through her window and skidded across the floor.

She figured she knew who it was then. Before the next pebble could be launched, she appeared at her window, and looked down to see Clopin looking back up at her. "What are you doing here?" She whispered.

"I need to talk to you."

"What about?"

"Come down," he insisted.

Any other night, she'd have put up more of a fight, she'd have told him to go home, but not tonight. Not after what happened today. "One minute," she called back.

She closed her shutters, quickly threw on an overdress over her shift, and made her way down stairs. He waited for her in front of the back door. Once outside, she closed it as quietly as she could and turned to him. "Alright, what do you want to-"

He caught her face in his hands and kissed her. It never felt like this before. He was scared, desperate. Part of her wanted to question why, but it was overruled by the rest of her. She parted her lips, inviting him in. It'd been too long and she wished this didn't have to end.

It did, however. He pulled away, but she could feel him stopping himself from drawing back in. He rested his hand on her chin and stared at her as if trying to memorize every detail of her face. There was sadness behind his eyes, sadness that wasn't out of place given what he'd lost that day.

"Noelle, I love you. I've loved you so long, I can't remember a time when I didn't. I needed you to know that. I needed to tell you before I die." He planted one more kiss on her lips, then tore himself away.

She watched him start down the ally. He left her frozen and confused. He loved her and her heart leapt at the thought. He loved her, of course he did, but he never put it into words before. And yet, she couldn't ignore what laid beneath his declaration. She could feel his fear, his despair. They were clear in his eyes, in the way he grasped at her, like he was afraid she might disappear. And what he said. He said he needed to tell her before… "Die?" She leapt out of her daze and chased after him. "Clopin, stop. Where are you going?"

He continued on, not even slowing his step at her protest. "The palace of justice. I'm not going to let Frollo hunt my people any longer." He unsheathed his dagger and gazed at the weapon, watching the way the moonlight bounced off the blade as he turned it. "Tonight, I'm putting an end to it."

"Clopin, you can't," she called in a hushed tone as she started to catch up. "The Palace of Justice is crawling with guards. They'll kill you."

"Probably," he said, continuing on. "I don't anticipate surviving this, but I can at least take him down with me."

"This is foolish." She grabbed onto his wrist. He stopped, but he wouldn't looked her. "They'll kill you before you can get anywhere near him."

"I have to try, or else I am a coward." He ripped his hand away, and pressed on, eyes still avoiding her face.

"Clopin, stop," she called after him. "This is pointless. You will die."

He paused in his step, and turned his head back ever so slightly. "I'm sorry," he said, barely above a whisper. "I know you don't understand, but I have to do this."

He kept going, returning to his steady pace. She was left behind in the dark. Her heart spasmed wildly in her chest. That idiot! How could he? He drags her out of bed then refuses to listen to reason? He was smarter than this. How could he insist on being so stupid? "So that's it?" Her shaking hands curled into fists. "You want to die for nothing and leave everyone else behind? What about your mother? Do you think she can withstand losing the both of you in one day? Do you think I could?"

He halted, standing stalk still, eyes staring straight ahead, away from her. Damn him. If he was going to do this, if he was going to break her heart, he'd look her in the eyes while he did so.

"You said you loved me." She marched up to him, grabbed him by the shoulders and turned him around. "Well, I love you. I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. And because I love you, I will not let you throw your life away, do you understand?"

The dagger dropped to the cobblestones with a clang. He threw his arms around her and clung to like she was the only thing keeping him in this world. "He killed my father."

"I know."

"He was a good man," he said between sniffles. "He didn't deserve to die like that."

"No, he didn't."

"I don't want to die like him." Sharp, panicked breaths punctuated each sentence. "I don't want my son to see my hanging body. I don't want to you to fight to look indifferent as you watch them kill me."

"It won't come to that," she whispered, combing her fingers through his hair.

"It will, as long as he's alive."

Noelle searched her mind for an answer. "We don't know the future. A brick could fall on his head tomorrow and you could go on living another fifty years. Nothing is for certain."

He continued to quietly sob into her shoulder. Her heart twisted. She could do nothing for him, nothing but hold him and let him hold her. That was fine. She'd let him hold her forever if necessary, but she knew they had to get out of the street soon. It was only a matter of time before a guard wandered by or someone heard the commotion and checked out their window.

Most of all, she just wanted to give him some peace, at least for the night. The how of this was lost on her. She wasn't good with words like he was. Numbers, puzzles, and practical solutions were what she knew, but there was no fixing this and no poet on Earth could make this feel right.

Only one idea came to mind. It wasn't much, but it would do. She cradled the back of his head in one hand and held him around the waist with the other. Softly, she began to sing. "À la claire fontaine m'en allant promener."Singing was never her forte, but he loved music. Perhaps he could take some comfort from this. "J'ai trouvé l'eau si belle que je m'y suis baignée."

He held her closer and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. She continued singing, "Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai."

He muffled a broken sob in her shoulder. Her heart breaking for him, she gently combed his hair with her fingers as she continued. "Sous les feuilles d'un chêne, je me suis fait sécher. Sur la plus haute branche, un rossignol chantait." She swallowed her own sob. He didn't need that right now. He could cry enough for the both of them. "Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai."

She felt his breathing slow and he let out a ragged breath. "Chante, rossignol, chante, toi qui as le cœur gai. Tu as le cœur à rire… moi je l'ai à pleurer."

Finally, he lifted his head and joined her song. "Il y a longtemps que je t'aime, jamais je ne t'oublierai."

"You are so terribly flat," he laughed, wiping a final tear from his eye.

"You have to stay," she said, giving him a final squeeze. "Teach me how to sing properly."

"That could take years."

"Decades. You'll have to stick around for that." A fragile smile stretched across his lips. She patted him once more on the shoulder then scooped his dagger of the ground. "Come on, let's head back. No more of this."

"But-"

"You can have this back when I know you can use it responsibly."

They walked back to the inn in silence, Noelle leading him by the hand. He kept his fingers curled around hers and she'd hear the occasional sniffle. They went in the back door as quietly as they could and Noelle locked it behind them.

"Stay here tonight," she insisted. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'm not going to the Palace of Justice, if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not that," Noelle said, laying a gentle hand on his face. "I don't know how far your walk is. I don't want to leave you alone with your grief for long."

"You're afraid I'll do something stupid, is that it?" he asked, stepping away.

"You didn't exactly make a compelling argument for yourself tonight."

Clopin sighed and shook his head, a resigned chuckle on his lips. "Fair enough. What will your father say about it?"

"About what?"

They turned to see Rousse standing in the doorway with a candle in his hand and staring at them with tired eyes.

"Papa," Noelle gasped. She rushed up to him. "Papa he's mad with grief," she whispered. "He came here looking for comfort. We can't send him away."

Rousse's eyes softened and he glanced between the two of them "Don't worry ange, I wasn't going to," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Go back to bed. I'll talk with him."

They said their goodbyes and Noelle cast one last glance at Clopin before starting up to her room.

Clopin sat down at a table while Rousse filled two steins with ale. Rousse put one down in front of Clopin then sat downs beside him. The older man silently began drinking his own ale, then spoke. "Your father and I grew up together just like you and Noelle. We were raised to be good friends and strong allies. Do you know why?"

"To make sure you can trust each other," Clopin answered, staring into his cup.

"Yes, we were tools of our fathers to ensure that the Circle would go on after they died. They manufactured our friendship and it worked. Adrien was like a brother to me." Rousse took another long swig and continued. "We scoffed at the world just like you and Noelle do. We told ourselves we weren't going to fall into the same trap everyone else did. We said we'd get a boat, sail away and see the world."

"What happened?"

"Well, for one thing neither of us knew how to sail." Rousse flashed a weak grin but dropped it when he got no response. "We grew up," he explained in a more somber tone. "We became less selfish and we realized we had responsibilities to other people. Some people maybe can walk away from everything, leave nothing of value behind, but we were not those people. Too much depended on us."

Clopin didn't answer. He ran a finger down the cold side of the stein. Rousse words hung in the air over his head. _Too much depended on us._ Now, it all depended on him. And who was he? He wasn't his father. He didn't know all the right answers. He didn't have a booming voice or commanding presence. How could he protect anyone when his father always had to go out of his way to protect him? _I can't do it. I can't. I will fail._

"You're scared," Rousse went on. "You feel trapped. The future looks like a gaping pit about to swallow you whole."

"How do you know?"

"I was with Adrien the night his father died. My father was sick at the time and it didn't take long before he died as well. We drank together in this very room. I don't remember saying much. We stared into the shadows while our fates hung over our heads like a waiting storm." Rousse took another long swig as if he'd traveled back to that night.

Clopin waited for some wisdom, some magic words that would grant him instant clarity. When none came, he asked, "No advice then?"

"No," Rousse said, setting his empty stein on the table with a definitive clank. "I didn't have anything helpful to say to your father then, and I don't have anything to say to you now. Your father's death is a tragedy. It is a gross injustice that men like Frollo hold so much power. It's unfair that one person, especially one so young, should be burdened with protecting so many lives. And yet, this is the hand you were dealt. You have no choice but to play it."

Clopin looked down into his untouched ale and thought he might be sick. Instead, he brought the drink to his lips, upturned it, and drained the whole thing.

Rousse let out a short, tired chuckle "There is good news," he continued. "Your mother is still here. Your uncle is still here. All your father's friends and allies are still here. You still have the Circle, you have Noelle, and you have me. None of us can take this burden off your hands, but we can stand beside you and help you carry it. You have to do it, but you don't have to do it alone."

"I thought you didn't have anything helpful to say."

The corner of Rousse's mouth turned up into a half smile and he clapped a hand down on Clopin's shoulder. "If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to come to me."

Clopin returned the half-smile. Nothing had changed. His father was still dead. He still felt woefully unprepared to lead. But he wasn't the first to face this, and he wasn't the only one.


End file.
